


The Demon Who Followed Me Home

by the_toadlet



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Demon Shane Madej, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Neighbour AU, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, hes dead but not for long, lfkjsdf im so sorry, the last chapter is pure smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-04 22:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14602677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_toadlet/pseuds/the_toadlet
Summary: Shane Madej, resident demon and best friend of Ryan Bergara, who writes a supernatural+unsolved newsletter. What could possibly go wrong?(basically shane gets booted out of hell, makes friends with the cute boy next door, and lots of things happen)





	1. Act 1: The Demon and his Witness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back lads ((and ig im a bfu stan now))

When Ryan moved into the little blue house, he didn’t expect anyone to move into the eerie house next door. It was kinda falling apart, for starters, and while it was cheap- ridiculously so, Ryan almost considered buying it before he saw the reviews of people claiming to feel a paranormal presence and promptly changed his mind- he was sure the amount of money to replace the windows, fix the water pipes, install electricity, and clean up the jungle of a yard would far outweigh whatever he would save.

So when he woke up to the sound of construction next door, he was startled, to say the least. He leaned out of his upstairs window and stared at the moving van parked in front of the dilapidated house. Someone was hauling sheets of glass across the freshly trimmed lawn, while he could hear hammering and several other people in bright orange vests were running wires around the house. There was a man standing in front of the moving truck, also watching the construction. He seemed to spot Ryan, and he waved. Ryan hesitantly waved back, and he could see the man’s face split into a wide smile.

Ryan withdrew back into his room, rubbing his brow in astonishment. He should make a housewarming gift for the dude, right? Was that a thing people in small neighbourhoods did? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and slowly descended the staircase. His kitchen had a wide, sunny window facing the neighbours house, and Ryan peered through his various dying houseplants to watch the construction workers. He had eventually decided to make the new neighbour- who had mysteriously vanished from in front of the moving van- a batch of chocolate cookies and was figuring out what recipe he should use.

He almost shrieked when the knocking jolted him out of his reviere, and he placed a hand over his heart to try and calm himself down. Ryan shook himself and grinned sheepishly at nothing, vaguely annoyed at his skittish nature. He opened the door to find the new neighbour smiling slightly. Ryan blinked. The man was much taller than he had looked from the second story window.

“Hello! I’m Shane, your new neighbour,” The man said, holding out his hand for Ryan to shake. Ryan grinned and shook it.

“Ryan, nice to meet you. I was just going to bake you a housewarming gift,” Ryan stepped back, allowing Shane to come in the little hallway. Shane nodded his thanks to Ryan, and looked around the narrow hallway.

“You don’t have to do that, but thank you.” Shane’s voice was soft.

“I don’t think it’s a choice, dude. For either of us.”

Shane chuckled slightly. Ryan led the taller man down the hallway, hoping his unexpected guest didn’t notice the sheer amount of clutter that decorated his home. The kitchen was, thankfully, not as bad as the rest of his house. Somehow. Ryan waved a hand at his table haphazardly and pulled out one of his cookbooks before glancing over his shoulder at the other man. Shane seemed enthralled by the little succulents in his south facing window.

“Where did you get these hysterical little plants?” Shane sounded truly excited and astonished by the little cacti and aloe plants. Ryan sent him a bemused glance before pulling out a cookie tray.

“Just at the Home Depot, why? Never seen a plant before?” Ryan teased gently. Shane laughed.

“Of course I’ve seen a _plant,_ Ryan. We just didn’t have these little ones where I’m from,” Even with his back turned, Ryan could hear the smile in Shane’s voice. “What are you baking?”

“I was gonna make chocolate cookies, but if you’re allergic to anything you should tell me now.”

“I don’t think i’m allergic to anything in chocolate cookies.”

“That’s good. If you couldn’t eat chocolate cookies, I’m not sure we could be friends.”

Shane giggled. He still had one of the little succulents in his hand, and he was admiring it with apt attention. He looked back up to Ryan, who by now was pulling out random things from cupboards, and pressed a finger into the soil surrounding the plant. It was incredibly dry. Shane pursed his lips in concentration and smiled slightly when the soil grew damp around his finger.

“So, Ryan, why did you move into this neighbourhood?”

Ryan glanced over his shoulder, but Shane seemed genuinely curious.

“It was pretty cheap, and I really needed a place. This house called to me, I guess.” He shrugged, shooting Shane a quick smile before returning to his cookies. Shane hummed in agreement.

“Same with me and my place. It just had a charm I couldn’t resist, you know?” Shane stood up from his spot at the kitchen table and returned the little plant- which was looking much happier now that it was watered- to the windowsill.

Unbeknownst to Ryan, the ‘charm’ that had called Shane was a bit more of a portal to Hell that Shane had been violently thrown through into the mortal realm, and it’s not really like he could tell that to his completely human neighbour. God knows how he would react to _that_ tidbit of information. One of the biggest downsides of being a literal demon from Hell, Shane supposed, was not being very well versed in human nature. He had spent a few months lurking in the old house, watching the little neighbourhood go about its business in his demon form before trying to figure out what he looked like before his transformation. It had been a long time. It took some getting used to, all the moving parts and inability to pass through solid things through force of will. He hated it, but at the same time he had a _heartbeat._ He hadn't had one of those for… a long time. Not since his last little adventure, and Shane had missed it more than he realised.

But he had figured out how to use his legs without looking like an angry flamingo, and it was then that he started manipulating things in his favour. He very abruptly owned the house, had lots of money, and he had things to move into the house. And now he was here, sitting in a kitchen and looking at plants while his new neighbour made him cookies.

Shane didn’t plan the cookie thing, but it was a nice perk. He had somehow broken the ice with his comment about the plants and now they were chatting merrily. Ryan was talking about how the rest of the neighbourhood was really very nice when you got to know them but not very good with newcomers, and Shane nodded along quietly, saying something about his last neighbours all being demons. Ryan laughed and said something about how people could certainly seem that way.

\---

The cookies had come out absolutely phenomenal. The chocolate chips were smooth and liquid, and the batter was soft and moist and just a little crispy on the bottom, and Shane was seriously impressed.

“This is fantastic.”

“Thank you!” Ryan chirped and Shane grinned.

“What did you do to it?” Shane laughed when Ryan spluttered angrily, and he held out a hand to pacify him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! It really is fantastic.” A soft smile had settled over Shanes features, and a distant part of him- the human side- wanted this moment to last forever. There was an immediate click between him and Ryan, their friendship already better than some of his relationships from his last escapade to the human world.

Shane stood up from the little wooden table- painted a charming blue to match the house- and stretched.

“Thank you for-” Shane gestured vaguely around the kitchen and Ryan giggled. “-this. It was nice, ya know? Meeting some people around the neighbourhood?”

“Yeah, of course! You’re welcome to stop by whenever, I rarely leave the house,” Ryans voice was lighthearted, a smile making his words soft, but there was truth to his words.

“Really?” Shane raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Ryan rolled his eyes and gestured around the messy house.

“I’m like a cave creature. Or a hermit,”

Shane laughed.

“Maybe I will stop by, then. Keep you from going feral or something.”

The pair stood in the kitchen for a brief second, just kinda smiling at each other. Shane eventually broke the comfortable silence by stretching again and declaring that he should get home soon. Ryan nodded, telling him to stay put for a minute longer while he shoveled some of the remaining cookies on a plate and wrapped it with cling wrap. Shane took the plate of cookies with a snort.

“Thank you, Ryan.”

Ryan nodded, and let Shane out through the kitchen door before waving him off. The sun was just beginning to set, and Ryan wondered how they had managed to spend an entire day talking.

There was something about the taller man that seemed off to him, but he put it down to nerves about meeting a new person. After all, writing a paranormal newsletter didn’t really give many opportunities to new people, except when he had to interview people and very rarely did they become friends after that.

Shane, on the other hand, thought Ryan was absolutely adorably _human_. He rolled his shoulders once he stepped through his door, and let the heavy black wings to materialize behind his shoulders. The feathers ruffled in an invisible wind, and Shane let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His hazel eyes bled out, into a deep black that filled his entire eye. His canines stretched into needle thin points, and a deep growl rumbled through Shane’s chest. He couldn’t go into his natural demon form without completely obliterating his fragile human body, and he was far too fond of it to build a new one, but it was still more comfortable to have some parts of his original form. Besides, if he built a new body, he’d have to reintroduce himself to Ryan and he would rather not. It was very useful to have a human friend, who could teach him about the rest of the human world and not just this little neighbourhood. After all, things had changed quite a bit since the early 800’s. Thank god for what one could find on the internet, right?

Shane gently set the plate of chocolate cookies on the newly installed granite counter, and wandered through his brand-spanking-new house. Beautifully dark hardwood floors lead throughout the hallways and bedroom, dark slate tiles spilled across the bathroom floor, and Shane nodded appreciatively at the fireplace that stood directly over the portal to Hell that he was(unfortunately) kicked out of. He had picked most of his furnishings out online, on a human website called “Ikea”. Shane thought it was a pretty good deal, but he reconsidered when he attempted to read the instructions.

Another perk of being a demon was that he could wave a hand and assemble most things. Except, apparently, a product called ‘POÄNG’. Somewhere, the demon’s human form had acquired glasses(because the demon’s forethought had apparently not spanned to properly working eyes), and Shane glared at the offending ottoman over the rims of said glasses. It stayed improperly put together. Shane flicked his wrist again from where he was sat, perched on the edge of a cozy leather couch, and watched as the pieces gently disentangled and floated apart. Shane glanced at the positively hieroglyphic instructions once more. There was literally only four pieces, and yet the centuries-old demon could not for the life of him figure out what any of the images meant. Shane sighed and rubbed his forehead before setting the pieces back down with a wave of his hand. He would try again tomorrow, perhaps with Ryans help.

He stood up and ruffled his pitch black wings, looking helplessly at the mess of things before him. It was mostly packaging, for the various things he had ordered, but spare screws and the little Ikea wrenches could be seen amongst the wreckage. He was severely tempted to just whisk it all away, but he had no idea where it would go and wasn’t very keen to find out. Shane toed the cardboard box in front of him away, trying to avoid getting styrofoam on his new socks. The fireplace had a faint red glow, and Shane glanced over at it sceptically. Theoretically, he could go back to Hell whenever he wanted to, if he admitted that Abezethibou(Shane called him Abezy) was right. Shane, of course, absolutely fucking did _not_ want to succumb to the lesser demon’s argument that demons didn’t have feelings. Maybe fullblood demons didn’t, but Shane knew for a fact that he could feel… something. Maybe it was guilt, whenever he cringed away at his torture duties- Hell wasn’t even close to how bad most people thought it was, but there was still torture for the truly awful souls- but the other Pure(™, Shane always added in his head) demons said it was merely cowardice.

And now Shane was here, in the mortal plane, trying to make friends with a human. How wonderfully ironic.

\---

The next morning, Shane was up ridiculously early. He knew this, because Ryan grumbled it when Shane knocked at his door with the empty plate from the cookies and a store bought(summoned) box of cupcakes. Ryan had opened the door blearily, still wrapping a dark blue robe around his midsection and Shane held up the cupcakes with a (probably) pacifying smile.

“I wanted to return your plate, and bring you cupcakes to pay you back, but I can’t cook so…” Shane trailed off, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

“Its like eight in the morning, Jesus Christ.”

“Not quite.”

Ryan snorted, running a hand through his(incredibly) mussy hair and walking back to his kitchen. Shane followed, closing the door behind him and smiling to himself.

“Do you want breakfast or something? I don’t think I’m going to get back to sleep, so I might as well make something-” Ryan cut himself off with a yawn, and Shane’s brow furrowed.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I can just leave this, and, y’know,” Shane awkwardly pointed his thumb over his shoulder.  Ryan smiled softly and waved his hand.

“Nah, it’s good. I need to start getting up before like, noon,” At this point, Shane had set the cupcakes down on the table and sat in the same chair he was at before.

“Noon? Thank goodness I saved you, then,” Shane dramatically threw a hand over his brow. Ryan chuckled and opened the small fridge tucked in a corner.

“Do you like eggs? ‘Cause that’s what I’m making and if you want some you better tell me now.”

“Probably?”

“What does probably mean?”

“I haven’t had eggs in a very long time,” Shane smiled forlornly. Rather, the last time he had eggs was in the chocolate cookies Ryan made him yesterday, and from his extensive watching of cooking shows, he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Ryan meant.

“How can you not have _eggs?_ ” Ryan stared at Shane, vaguely horrified confusion curling his features. Shane snorted.

“I may have forgotten they exist,” Shane said with a shrug and a smirk. Ryan raised his eyebrows and shook his head. He gave Shane one last befuddled look and cracked an extra egg into the small saucepan in front of him. “Aren’t you supposed to do that in a frying pan?”

“I’ve found that a saucepan works better, and it’s easier to clean,” Ryan yawned again, and Shane felt bad about waking him up. Probably guilt, again.

“Do you want me to leave? You sound like you need more sleep.”

“Shane, I promise it’s fine. I’m making you eggs either way, and I’ll just try and go to sleep early tonight to make up for it,” Ryan shot a tired smile over his shoulder to his worried companion.

“I’ll try not to bother you this early again though, pinky swear,” Shane put his elbow on the table and extended his stupidly long finger. Ryan giggled and left his eggs- which were sizzling and smelled fantastic, at this point- to loop his pinky around Shane’s.

“It’s a deal, tree man.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re short.”

“You- I- I’m five-ten. That is not short,” Shane hummed noncommittally. “How dare you, tall ass.”

Shane wheezed, and Ryan grinned broadly as he scooped the eggs on two small plates.

“You’ve got to be lying, you’re _maybe_ five-five.”

Ryan gave Shane a look of intense suffering, and Shane laughed harder.

“Says you, Mr. eighty percent legs,” Ryan grumbled, and Shane smiled.

“It’s a gift, really.”

“You’re awful.”

“I know right,” Shane winked at the shorter man before stabbing his eggs with a vengeance. He felt like melting when he finally shoved the yellow and white mixture in his mouth. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got to be some sort of cooking wizard,” He managed to get out between shovelling it in his mouth.

“I’m still concerned about the fact you forgot eggs exist.”

“Fight me, Ryan,” (except it came out as more of a ‘ffrht mre Ryan’, and Shane couldn’t be bothered to correct himself when Ryan was laughing that hard)

\---

Somehow, months came and went and Shane managed to keep his demon identity a secret from his(annoyingly enough) ghost hunting companion. Ryan had shared his newsletter, ‘ghostly ghastly and still unsolved’, with Shane and Shane thought it was both the most amusing and one of the most accurate representations of what demons actually were.

When Ryan had first showed Shane his newsletter, eyes bright as he showed Shane all his evidence and his theories, Shane had to fight off laughter. This was obviously incredibly important to Ryan, and Shane didn’t want to fuck up his only friendship, but Ryan was incredibly off on certain aspects.

First off, holy water did nothing more than sting demons, it didn’t have to be salt to trap anything(any circle of fine grains would do but flour worked best), and while ghosts did technically exist they were nowhere near as interesting as Ryan thought they were. Most of his reported hauntings were lesser demons, who traveled to earth to mess around with humans and absorb their energy. Ghosts were more like memories, Shane supposed. It was hard to explain theoretical demon physics to a human who didn’t even know he was a demon, but Shane was fine with that. God knows what Ryan would do if he _did_ know, with his ridiculously large surplus of holy water(Shane’s seen it, and how Ryan got a priest to bless that much water was beyond him, it was literally a 3 gallon tank of blessed water) and pinpoint accurate ways to draw a banishing pentagram. Shane didn’t even want to consider where Ryan had learned that.

But overall, Ryan was eerily correct in his depictions of demons on his website. Shane smiled and nodded at his friend, looking through his responses to questions and who he had interviewed.

“You know, you could make one hell of a video series out of this,” Shane mused, shooting a glance and a smile at his counterpart.

“Like, on disc?”

“Or on an internet, I suppose.”

“An internet?”

“The internet. Slip of the tongue,” Shane twitched his lips up and looked down, while Ryan looked at him bemusedly.

“How many internets do you think there are?”

“I don’t know, I don’t use my laptop very much.”

Ryan gave him a _look_. Shane chuckled again. “Sorry, Ryan. I guess the real world is enough for me.

Ryan grumbled and shot Shane a look, but his head shake was fond.

“You’re insane.”

“I get that a lot.”

\---

True to his word, Shane never came back as early as he had that day. He eventually summoned himself a phone, and gave Ryan his number. Ryan was thrilled, and had taken to texting Shane new theories and haunted locations for Ghostly, Ghastly, and Still Unsolved.

Ryan had been sending Shane one of these extensive lists of theories, on a place called the Whaley house, when Shane’s(gorgeous white sandstone) fireplace started to rumble. Shane’s eyes widened, and he stumbled up from the couch. He waved a distracted hand, slamming all of his blinds shut, and let his wings and horns shiver into existence. The pictures on the mantle, falsified photos of Shane and a lady who believed she was his mother and a single framed selfie of him and Ryan, started to rattle and Shane cringed. He flicked a few fingers in the vicinity of the fireplace, and floated the photos to the sofa end table.

Red flames swirled in the depths of the fireplace, and dark smoke billowed out. Deep rumbling rattled the windows, and Shane cracked his knuckles in preparation. Glowing red eyes rose, and Shane sighed in annoyance.

“Jen, why the fuck are you here?” Shane straightened from his half crouch and let his razor sharp claws retreat into his fingertips.

“Sabnock, I thought you’d be glad to see me,” The vaguely feminine voice growled out.

“You know very well I don’t use that name anymore.”

The mist like demon grinned, long fangs glinting in the dim light. The dark smoke receded at an unearthly rate, and when it had finally collapsed into the demon, a lady stood where it was. Shane raised an eyebrow in amusement. Jen’s form was small, shorter than Ryan, with black floppy hair that was shaved on the sides.

“You should just admit Abezy is right, you know. It’s terribly boring without you.”

“I dunno, I’m having fun here. I should introduce you to Ryan.”

“Ryan? You made a human friend? Oh my god, Shane,” Jen shook her head in amusement. “I should’ve known. You always were soft.”

“Okay, bye bye Jen,” Shane rolled his eyes and started shoving the smaller demon back towards the still swirling portal to Hell. Jen hooked her heels into the carpet and glared at Shane over her shoulder.

“Shane, come one, I was just teasing-”

Shane gave Jen one final shove and waved cheerily as she fell into the swirling flames. The look of annoyed disappointment made Shane laugh. He turned around, but the distinct hiss of someone coming back through the portal made him turn around. Jen stumbled out of the tall fireplace and shook ash out of her hair before straightening and glaring at Shane.

“I’m actually here for a reason, you know.”

“So?”

Jen heaved a sigh and pushed Shane aside before plopping down on the floor.  

“I’m supposed to convince you to come back to the underworld because you’re one of the more important demons, but I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen, so instead I’m going to put together this ottoman you failed so spectacularly at and say I tried my best.”

Shane gaped at her for a second, before folding his long legs underneath him and collapsing on the floor in front of her.

“Why would they want me back?”

“I dunno, something about you getting good souls,” Jen slid the center of the ottoman into place with a _chunk_ noise, and looked back up from her work. “Also, Abez has started lamenting the fact you refuse to admit he’s right. I don’t agree with him, but he’s started summoning chaise lounges to faint on whenever someone mentions you. It’s ridiculous, honestly.”

“Chaise lounges? _Seriously?_ ”

“Pfft, no. He’s just bitching that now he has nobody to fight with.”

“Aw, and here I thought he missed me,” Shane chuckled. Jen rolled her eyes and stood the ottoman up.

“There we go. Done,” Jen rolled her shoulders and stepped to her feet, smirking down at the gawky demon in front of her. “It’s not hard, you’re just an idiot.” She held out a hand and dragged the tall man to his feet.

“You and Ryan should start a club,” Shane’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and let Jen’s unearthly strength drag him to his feet. “Speaking of, you two should meet. You are an old friend, after all.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

\---

While Jen had assembled the ottoman, Ryan had been frantically texting Shane. He had even looked out his window at the other man’s house, but the blinds were closed and it didn’t look like he was home. Ryan really hoped Shane wasn’t dead, or worse- possesed. But after at least ten messages of “shane ?? r u alive ????,” Shane texted him back with a story about an old childhood friend showing up for a surprise visit.

Ryan frowned. Shane didn’t mention any friends from his childhood even existing, but Ryan just shrugged it off. Shane wasn’t required to tell him anything. Who knows, maybe there was a portal to another realm in his basement. Ryan giggled to himself.

He responded to Shane’s invite to dinner with him and his friend, saying that it sounded fun and he absolutely was not paying. Somehow, Shane had a surplus of money even though he didn’t have a job. Ryan took advantage of it as much as he could, and Shane knew this very well but went along with it because he didn’t want his friend to have to pay for everything.

The dinner was more lively than Ryan expected, Shane’s childhood friend being incredibly funny and ready to eat things that no sane human should ever eat. She flirted with the waitress, winked at the elderly man who was giving her odd looks, ate the(horrifying and completely unholy) combination of fish and whipped cream, and somehow managed to get Ryan drunk with her. Shane watched in a mixture of amusement and absolute dread as Jen and Ryan started singing, the variety of glasses and bottles littering the table at the bar they had relocated to testifying of how drunk they were. In comparison, the single beer Shane had was absolutely nothing.

At the end of the night, Jen was giggling merrily while Ryan snored on Shane’s shoulder outside the bar.

“You’re right, Shane, humans are wa-ay more fun than they looks.”

“Jen, I don’t even know how you managed to get this drunk.”

“Demons are more sensitive to alco-” Jen cut herself off with a hiccup, which she looked marvelously surprised at. “More sensitive to-” Shane fought back the urge to laugh at her.

“I’ve had drinks before, Jen, I think you’re just a lightweight.”

Jen didn’t respond, being too caught up in her hiccups to even notice Shane talking. He shook his head. Of all the demons he knew, Jen was certainly one of the more interesting. She was surprisingly new, only died in the last century or so instead of Shane’s death in  the early 300’s B.C.E. Her humour was a mixture of soft laughter and wreaking havoc, both of which Shane thought were hysterical, and the two had bonded almost immediately. Pranks ran rampant through the underworld, and most of the underworldly creatures knew very well that it was the chaotic pair themselves. Changing up where portals would dump you out, turning the constant ash rain into black glitter, somehow managing to blast fiddle music throughout Hell, the list went on. Honestly, Shane was surprised the other demons hadn’t kicked them out earlier.

Shane snapped out of his train of thought when Jen flopped onto his lap, snoring softly. Shane smiled down at his two best friends, extremely glad he chosen to be the designated driver. Unfortunately, even with Shane’s demon strength, he wasn’t quite strong enough to carry both of them home, and Shane was very glad they were both asleep. His eyes washed over with black, and ancient words dripped from his lips and then they were all in his living room. Shane untangled himself from his friends, smiling softly when Ryan tried to pull him back down. He pulled Ryan’s hands off of his arm as gently as he could, pushing the shorter man’s hair out of his face and scooping him into his arms bridal style. Shane figured that it would be safer all around if he just let Ryan have his bed, instead of Shane trying to get Ryan into his own house and being worried about him all night. Besides, even is Shane did sleep(he didn’t, mostly because he saw no reason to waste that much time just laying somewhere) he could always take the couch or something.

Shane tried to keep his steps on the stairs as quiet as he could, not wanting to wake his friend. Ryan stirred. Shane froze, his foot barely on the top step, but Ryan just curled closer to Shane’s chest. Shane silently sighed in relief and continued to carry his inebriated friend down the hallway to his large, and faintly dusty, bedroom. Shane fought back the urge to sneeze. The unfortunate side effects of not sleeping included never using his bedroom, and the light of the streetlamp through the window lit up the dust brilliantly. Shane wrinkled his nose and resolved to try and use the room more. After another slight wave of his hand, which sent the dust swirling over to his least favourite neighbour’s house, Shane rolled Ryan out of his arms and onto the duvet. Ryan murmured slightly in his sleep before curling into a ball, and Shane rooted through the steamer trunk at the foot of the bed for something warm and not moth-eaten. There was a dark blue afgan, that Shane was fairly sure was a gift from someone, and Shane tossed it over Ryan.

Shane sighed before pulling out another blanket, light pink and fluffy. Shane grinned when he pulled it all the way out of the trunk, because _wow, was Jen gonna hate this._ One side of the thing was covered with little prints of spiders, most of them black widows, and Shane was so excited to see the look on Jen’s face. She hated spiders, and Shane knew this very, very, well. Served her right, for popping in unannounced like that.

\---

The next morning, Shane looked up from his book when Jen shrieked and promptly fell of the sofa. He flipped his book over on the kitchen table, and Jen’s glare just made his shit-eating grin wider. He held out a hand to pull her upright, and she took it.

“You’re a dick.”

“You know it,” Shane said with a wink, and Jen rolled her eyes before drawing in a sharp hiss and closing her eyes. “Jen? What’s wrong?”

“How much did I have to drink last night?”

Shane raised an eyebrow, concern still written across his fingers.

“Quite a bit, you passed out on my leg.”

Jen groaned softly.

“That explains the killer hangover, then. How’s-”

A faint groan from upstairs interrupted her, and Jen glanced toward the stairs. “-Ryan. You put him in your bed?”

“You were on the sofa, and I don’t use it anyway,” Shane said over his shoulder, already on the second step when Ryan appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked awful, his hair sticking up wildly, clothes mussed, and massive eye bags.

“Shane? Why am I in your house?” Ryan’s voice was quiet, and he was rubbing his forehead tiredly.

“I didn’t want to break into your house, and this way I wasn’t worried about you,” Shane stepped back down the stairs, and Ryan followed slowly. “Do you want breakfast or something? I feel like I owe you something, you cook for me a lot.”

“I think I might just go home and shower, but thank you, Shane.”

Shane nodded absently, trying to figure out why he would be sad that his friend was leaving. They lived right next door, it’s not like he couldn’t go over whenever. Ryan waved over his shoulder, and Shane waved back before his front door closed with a click and he and Jen were alone.

Jen had a look on her face that told Shane exactly what she thought.

“I do not have a thing for him, before you ask.”

“You so do,” Jen was still rubbing her head, and Shane felt a bit bad about her being in pain, but her smile made him want to shove her right back into Hell.

“Nah, we’re just bros. Anyways, don’t you have something you need to be doing? Preferably, not here?”

“Aw, shucks, I would, but I’m here all week to try and convince you to come back,” Jen spread her arms innocently. “I can’t believe you would stay here just for Ryan.”

“It’s not _just_ for Ryan!”

“Says you, but there's literally no other reason for you to be here. You have Ikea furniture, for fucks sake,”

“It’s not bad furniture!”

“Uh-huh.” Jen tilted her head down, and if she had glasses, she’d be peering over the rim of them. “You, Shane, are a liar.”

“And you, Jen, need to go back home,” Shane waved his hand in the direction of his fireplace, where all his photos had been put back. Jen huffed and crossed her arms.

“You may be a more powerful demon, but I’m here on direct orders from Lucy himself.” Shane froze.

“Lucifer sent you to get me back?”

“Turns out, you’re a favourite of his.”

“Oh, god.”

“You wish.”

\---

After Shane’s proper adjustment period of _Jen why didn’t you tell me this from the start_ and _oh fuck,_ he had finally calmed down enough to ask why on earth Lucifer would want him back. According to Jen, it was because he was one of the most productive demons the underworld had seen in a long time, and Lucifer was too lazy to just drag him back down to Hell.

When Shane came to, he was laying flat on his back in his living room with a persistent and buzzing ache in his head. Jen scrambled to her feet from the chair she was sitting in to stand over him.

“Shane? Are you alive?”

Shane pushed himself on his elbows and groaned slightly.

“Unfortunately. What happened?”

“I think you passed out,” Jen said, dropping into a sitting position next to Shane. “I have no idea if it was because of Lucifer wanting you back, or the fact that you’ve managed to neglect this body’s needs for months on end.”

Shane  flopped back to his prone position and rubbed his face with both hands.

“Probably both.”

“Probably,” Shane sighed. He cracked open one eye when Jen started to poke his side with her foot. “What?”

“You have a bed, go use it.”

“Fuck you, man. I don’t want to get up.”

“I’ll call Ryan and tell him you haven’t slept in at least a week.”

Shane’s eyes snapped open.

“You wouldn’t.”  

“I would. And you know he’d take my side, tall ass.”

“I hate you,” Shane grumbled, but rolled to his feet anyway. The room spun around him, and Shane had to hold out his arms and hope he didn’t fall over while he got used to standing again. The room stilled around him, and Shane realized just how badly he had been neglecting his new mortal form. His mouth and throat felt gluey, his vision was hazy around the edges, and Shane was fairly sure the consistent pain in his abdomen wasn’t healthy. “Um.”

Jen sighed and looped Shane’s arm around her shoulders, grabbing his waist with her other hand. Shane made a grateful noise and leaned most of his weight on her.

By the time they got to Shane’s bedroom, most of his vision was dark and his head throbbed. Jen let go of one of his hands, turning back his blue and grey duvet. She gently unhooked Shane’s arm and dumped him on his bed. He was out by the time she pulled his covers back over him, and Jen smiled softly.

“Goodnight, you big nerd.”

\---

Shane woke up gradually, trying to ignore the angry grumbling of his stomach and just go back to sleep. The sunlight outside his window was turning dark red, and Shane couldn’t figure out why it was dusk if he had just gone to sleep. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling he had never cared to look at before. It was off-white contact paper, covered with tiny swirling vines and with tiny cracks lining the edges. Shane sighed heavily and sat up, blinking rapidly when all the blood rushed from his head.

He changed out of his weirdly dusty clothes, donning a soft tee and some random pants. The sun had fully set by this time, and Shane looked out his window with a frown. He clutched the railing on his stairs, descending as slowly about as slowly as he could. His frown deepened when he found all his living room and kitchen lights on. He rounded the corner and stopped in surprise.

“Ryan?” His voice was raspy from disuse, and he cringed. Ryan looked up from his book.

“Christ, I thought you had actually died. I guess Jen was telling the truth,” Ryan pursed his lips.

“Speaking of, where is she?” Shane looked around the small room with a frown. He had expected Jen to stay, to make him eat something at least. He looked back to Ryan, who had a look on his face that made Shane’s gut curl.

“She’s in the kitchen, but you might not want-” Shane brushed past the now standing Ryan and immediately froze. Jen sat on the floor, leaning her back against nothing, and a circle of salt surrounding her. She looked up from the book in her hand and waved at Shane. “-to see her.” Ryan sighed.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Shane rounded on Ryan, hoping his voice sounded confused instead of the pure boiling rage he felt.

“I’m a demon, Shane-y boy. He’s tried to exorcise me several times while you were out, but no dough.” Jen said quietly, and Shane silently thanked her for giving him a way out without revealing he was _also_ a demon. Shane spun back around and sank to his knees, mentally rolling his shoulders back and hoping his acting would pass muster.

“How could you, Jen?” Shane tried to make his voice sound as betrayed as possible. Jen’s eyes widened fractionally, but she caught on when Shane winked at her.

“I’m sorry, Shane. It’s just my nature,” Jens voice was low and gravelly, and Shane felt like laughing. One side glance at Ryan, however, dispelled any notion of humour. His face was set, fear and determination battling across his features and Shane just wanted to protect him forever. Shane sighed and stood back up.

“Go back to where you came from,” He muttered, kicking the salt circle open. Ryan was incredibly pale, holding a squirt gun of what Shane assumed was holy water. Jen stood up ungracefully, giving Shane a look that spoke paragraphs before stepping out of the circle and vanishing. Ryan made a choking noise, and Shane turned around in concern. His shorter friend had tears building up in his eyes, and Shane immediately dragged him into a hug. Ryan’s shoulders were shaking violently, and Shane could feel tears staining his shirt. Shane rubbed a hand on Ryan’s back, his all consuming hunger forgotten in favour of comforting his friend. “Ryan? Are you alright?”

Ryan choked out a laugh.

“I’m crying all over my best friend, after trapping a demon in your house for days on end. Of- fucking- course I’m not okay.”

“Wait, days? Just how long was I out?” Ryan pushed back and looked Shane dead in the eye, disbelief written all over his face.

“Do you honestly not know?”

“No?”

“It’s been like, a week. I came over to check on you after a few days of radio silence, and then Jen had wings, and I trapped her and-”

Shane cut him off by clutching him close once more. Honestly, the fact that Ryan had managed to trap Jen and not have a mental breakdown was amazing, and Shane was oddly proud of the younger man. Even though it cost him plausibly having his friend around for tea, but he could always drag her back up, and it was worth it to have Ryan’s arms around his waist and his head tucked under Shane’s chin. Ryan let out a shuddering sigh, and Shane squeezed him for a hot second before letting him go.

“That’s amazing. I can’t believe you managed to capture an actual demon, dude,” Shane said, holding Ryan at arms length. He already missed the feeling of the other man in his arms, but that was a problem for a different time.

Ryan let out a shaky laugh.

“It was pretty cool, right?”

“Very,” Shane said with a smile, pulling Ryan back for a quick hug before letting him go for real. Ryan giggled and pulled out a chair from Shane’s kitchen table while Shane got his broom and dustpan from the corner.

“Why did you sleep for a week, by the way? Jen said it was because you haven’t slept at all for the past month or so, but I wasn’t sure if I believed her.”

“Nah, that was true. I haven’t slept in years,” Shane said, winking at Ryan. Ryan wheezed slightly, and Shane went back to sweeping up the salt on his floor. He cracked open the trash can and dumped it in, before replacing the broom in its rightful spot. Shane winced when his stomach rumbled, and Ryan snorted.

“This is what happens when you don’t eat for a week, dumbass. I went shopping for you, by the way,” Ryan said, his voice quiet. Shane grinned to himself.

“Thank you, Ryan.”

“Of course. Couldn’t have my only friend who isn’t a demon starve, could we?” Ryan’s tone was light, but chills ran down Shane’s back.

“Yeah, of course,” Shane blinked rapidly and swung open the fridge. He didn’t know what about half of the things were, but there was a carton of eggs, so he eagerly grabbed that. “Ryan, you should show me how to make scrambled eggs,” Shane wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, hoping the change of subject was less forced than it seemed. Ryan rolled his eyes fondly.

“I still have no idea how you managed to survive with no cooking skills whatsoever.”

“Lots of bread, man,” Shane’s grin was lopsided and Ryan’s heart thumped _hard._

“Oh. Of course,” Shane frowned at Ryan’s sudden change in tone, but didn’t push it. “Now, do you have a saucepan?”

\---

Three burned eggs later, Shane finally had something leaning towards edible. He shovelled the vaguely brown and crispy eggs in his mouth as fast as he could, while Ryan wheezed at him from the other side of the table. They were both ignoring the elephant in the room of ‘Shane’s childhood friend was a fucking demon’ but Shane really didn’t want to fake emotion, so he just ate his eggs. He gave Ryan a single forkful, letting him try Shane’s alleged masterpiece. Ryan winced slightly at the flavour, but said it was fine for a first attempt. Shane laughed.

He glanced at the clock on the stove and a devilish grin crossed his features.

“Ryan, look, it’s the witching hour,” Shane wiggled his fingers ominously, and Ryan snorted. “I bet all the ghosts are out, looking for revenge,” Shane winked and let his grin drop to a soft smile when Ryan paled.

“I just kicked out a demon, I think ghosts are the least of my worries,” Ryan tried to sound confident, but his eyes were wide and frightened. Shane grinned broadly.

“Don’t worry, Ryan, I’ll keep the spooks away,” He leaned back in his chair and looked around his kitchen. Shane knew for a fact that there weren’t any ghosts(or rather, memories of past inhabitants) in his house. Any and all ghosts had a tendency to fall through the portal to hell, and it had been long enough that there weren’t any left to fall into the void. Ryan didn’t know that, however, and he was starting to look thoroughly freaked out. “Do you just wanna spend the night? ‘Cause it’s literally past three, and I don’t think Dorris would be fond of you turning on all your lights right now. She does like her beauty sleep.”

Ryan grinned, his eyes still wide as saucers.

“Sounds good, dude. Wouldn’t want to wake Dorris, it was hard enough catching one demon,” Ryan smirked, and Shane wheezed.

“Oh my god, can you imagine Dorris with wings and fangs and whatever?” Shane said. Ryan giggled, already looking less spooked. Shane really had to remember how fucking skittish his best friend was, the poor man was going to have a heart attack one of these days. Shane smiled broadly and tried to describe what Dorris would look like as a demon, but Ryans laughter was contagious and soon they were both chortling messes.

Ryan smiled softly at Shane, his hair flopping over his forehead and cheeks flushed from laughter.

“I missed you,” Ryan said quietly, his smile turning shy, and Shane knew his own red cheeks weren’t just from laughter.

“I missed you too, in my little coma,” Shane’s smile was as crooked as usual. Ryan giggled, a soft fluttery noise, and Shane genuinely didn’t want this moment to end.

Unfortunately, Shane yawning broke the mood. Ryan snickered.

“You slept for a week and you’re still tired?”

“Five more minutes, man,” Shane stretched his arms behind his head and groaned when his shoulders popped. “Where do you want to sleep?” Ryan winced sheepishly.

“I’ve been sleeping on your couch, to keep an eye on J- the demon, y’know?” Shane’s easy smile suddenly became forced, and he nodded.

“You should take my bed, then, that couch isn’t very comfortable,” Shane said, trying to pretend his voice wasn’t as sad as it was. Ryan thought that Jen was reduced to just a demon, with no regard for her personality, and it made the backs of his eyelids sting. Shane didn’t even want to think of what would happen when Ryan found out _he_ was a demon.

Ryan frowned in concern when his friends voice was suddenly choked with tears.

“It’s a queen size, right? We’re both grown men, we can share,” Ryan said, standing from the table and holding out a hand for Shane. If Shane’s smile was watery when he took it, well, that wasn’t anybody’s business.

\---

Shane was awake well before he thought fair. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the sky just turning a dusty grey, and Shane couldn’t fall back asleep. He rolled onto his back, staring up once again at the ceiling. He could barely make out the swirling flowers that adorned it, and he gave up trying and turned to face his friend.

Ryan was laying on his side, facing Shane, and Shane’s heart skipped a beat. Ryan looked more peaceful than Shane had ever seen him, his brow relaxed and his breathing soft. Shane instinctively reached out and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of Ryan’s face, and the younger man smiled. Shane froze, but Ryan seemed to still be asleep. He pulled his hand back and sighed, deciding to just get out of bed.

\---

When Ryan finally wandered down the stairs, his hair mussed and bleary eyes, Shane had made coffee and managed to make bacon that wasn’t completely burnt. Ryan smiled gratefully when Shane handed him a mug and plate, and Shane smiled back.

“How long have you been awake?” Ryan asked, sipping his lukewarm coffee and grimacing slightly.

“Hours?” Shane screwed up his face and shrugged.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked peaceful, I didn’t want to bother you,” Shane said nonchalantly, a soft smile turning his lips upward. Ryan huffed fondly.

“Thanks, I think,” Ryan said. Shane winked.

“It’s what I do, baby.”

Ryan shook his head fondly, before poked at the bacon on the plate in his hand.

“Is this edible?”

Shane shrugged.

“I ate some, I’m not dead yet,”

“Yet being the key word,” Ryan said dryly. Shane chuckled.

\---

Ryan survived the great bacon adventure with nothing more than a scratch, and Shane waved him off from his kitchen door while Ryan crossed the great terrain(of about twenty feet, but Shane thought it was fitting either way. The house was very lonely without Ryan). Shane laughed when Ryan flipped him the bird, and he waved the white handkerchief with more vigor. He could hear Ryan’s wheeze, just before he shut his door, and Shane closed his own door after him.

Shane turned and pressed his back against the door and slid to the floor, staring around his kitchen and frowning. He really needed to not be so attached to a mortal, who would die, and probably go to heaven, and even if he did go to hell, there’s no telling if he’d be a demon like Shane, or just one of the millions of tortured souls. Shane heaved a sigh.

He was sitting there, still frowning at his kitchen, when Jen neatly stepped out of thin air. Shane squinted at her.

“Why are you here?” He asked. Jen shrugged and sat down in front of him.

“You were moping,” She said.

“That’s because my friend was stupid enough to be caught by my ghost hunting neighbour,” Shane said, arching an eyebrow disapprovingly.  Jen looked abashed.

“He just waltzed right in, it wasn’t like I wanted to be stuck in a salt circle for days on end,” Jen grumbled. Shane rolled his eyes.

“We both know you could’ve gotten out of that any time you liked.”

“I couldn’t, actually. He did a really good job,” Jen said, her lips pursed into a thin line.

“Of course he did, he’s Ryan,” Shane snapped, crossing his arms angrily. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so defensive, but Jen snorted.

“I’m so glad you found each other, then.  The demon and the ghost hunter, forever in love, right?” Jen said coldly, standing back up. “I’m going back home, have fun in your little lovenest.”

Shane grit his teeth and watched as Jen’s human form disintegrated into ash and swirled back into her cloudy natural form, red eyes flickering like flames and she growled and dove into the fireplace. Dark smoke rolled across Shane’s floor, dissipating when the demonic red light that had lit up most of the room vanished. Shane rubbed his forehead when the whole show was over, knowing very well that it was beyond overkill. Especially the fact that Jen had managed to project the sounds of the tortured souls wailing into his living room, rattling his antique chandelier and pictures on his mantle.

“Asshole!” He shouted after her, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. Shane grumbled and rolled himself to his feet, glancing over his shoulder and closing the blinds in a blink of the eye. He sighed and stretched his wings out as far as they could go, groaning at the feeling of blood rushing through underused muscle. Sleeping for a week, while good for his human form, really _fucking_ hurt in retrospect. His wings ached from staying folded for so long, and as soon as Shane tried to let them droop the cramps made him hiss in pain. He dragged himself into his living room and flopped face-down on his couch, draping his sore wings over the floor and back of the couch.

The screams that Jen had projected were finally starting to fade, and Shane dozed off.

\---

Shane woke up with a groan, flopping his wings pathetically. Most of the day had passed, and his wings had(finally) stopped cramping so harshly. He folded them back, and let his horns melt away, missing the familiar weight almost immediately. He stood up and looked around the room, taking note of things that were out of place- one of the cushy chairs had been turned to stare into the kitchen, and Shane smiled fondly at the thought of Ryan staring Jen down- and he gently pushed it back into place. The book Jen was reading was still laying on the floor in the kitchen, where Shane had elected to ignore it when he swept up the salt ring. He picked it up absently, and snorted when he read the title. _‘Easy ways to exorcise your home, with only supplies found in your kitchen!’_ , of course.

He slid the book back on his shelf, and wiped the dust off with a grimace. Maybe that’s what he should do, clean the big old house by hand. He could use the exercise, maybe build up some muscles. That’s what Shane told himself, anyway, as he grumbled and summoned himself a duster. As he wiped off the shelves, he thought about the king of Hell himself trying to get him back. Shane shivered. He was oddly loathe to leave this world, with all its interesting little humans and flowers.

A demon, wanting to stay because of flowers. Who would’ve thought, Shane mused to himself. He sneezed at the clouds of dirt he was raising, and huffed in annoyance. Time to tackle the dirt beast.

\---

Shane chucked the duster into the depths of his pantry, scratching at his arms irritably. He had been cleaning for most of the day, and the sheer amount of gack in some of the corners was astounding. He felt grimy, and he was absolutely covered in muck from around the ancient house. He looked down at his once-white shirt and sighed. He’d have to shower, and Shane still wasn’t quite sure how to use his washing machine. Oh well.

He rinsed the dust off his arms, deciding it would be better to be slightly less itchy and not have to suffer through it any longer than he had to. He glanced though the window above his sink and out into his backyard, which was very large and very… tangled. He suppressed a sigh. The back jungle would have to wait for another day. Shane rolled his shoulders back, and groaned at the ache in his muscles. Cleaning was not a fun way to exercise, it turned out. He scrubbed his hands dry with a nearby hand towel, and threw it haphazardly back on his counter. Grumbling to himself, he stomped up the stairs, pausing only momentarily to admire his freshly cleaned living room. All his chairs were back in their proper places, after Ryan had scooched them about, and he felt much better about the appearance of his house. It was really a nice house, high ceilings and some of the older light fixtures adding a nostalgic feel to the old building. Shane as almost disappointed that a portal to hell was in the middle of it, the ghosts there probably would have really been something.

Shane shook himself out of his mindless daydream, of old ghosts wandering around the house, and continued up the slightly rickety stairs. He shucked off his shirt and scratched absentmindedly, muttering under his breath about dust and how he was a demonic entity, he shouldn’t have to deal with mundane things like carpet moths. He discarded the dusty shirt at the foot of his bed and wandered into the master bathroom, which Shane was quite fond of. The wide shower turned on with a flick of his fingers, and he struggled out of his jeans before stepping into the hot water. He scrunched up his face, running his fingers through his shaggy hair and grimacing at the faintly grey water it resulted in. His back relaxed under the water, just this side of scalding.

“Busy?” A deep voice made Shane shriek, and he shoved his hands downwards and glared through the foggy glass. A misty, imposing figure was perched on the counter, dark smoke dripping to the floor and tall antler-like horns barely brushing the vaulted ceiling. The figure was distinctly humanoid shaped, but the edged were fuzzy and Shane couldn’t focus on them very well.

“Yes?” Shane sounded put out, and he made a mental note to keep towels closer so the King of Hell didn’t have to witness all his humanly glory for any longer than he had to.

“Too bad. We need to talk,” Lucifer said, dropping to the floor. “After all, we can’t have my best soldier running about the mortal realm without purpose.” Shane nodded silently, shutting off the water with one hand any trying to process the fact that in his human form, Shane was taller than the fucking _King of Hell_.

After Shane had at least wrapped a towel around his midsection and stopped pausing to stare at the wispy form sitting in his bedroom, Lucifer’s form changed from the shadowy being into a slightly more human form- a short, older man, with features remarkably similar to Shane’s. Shane blinked at the man in front of him.

“Can I ask why you’re sitting in my house, looking like-”

“Your father?” Lucifer sounded pleased, and Shane wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

“Sure,” Shane said, trying not to visibly cringe. Lucifer smiled pleasantly.

“I’m sure Jen told you that I want you back, but because you didn’t come, I thought I would try and convince you myself. And she also mentioned a human lover,” He said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Shane wiped at his face and sighed exasperatedly.

“Not a lover, thanks,” He said in annoyance. Lucifer winked.

“Not what I heard, but okie-dokie.”

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Shane grumbled, going back into the bathroom to snag a towel to dry off his hair. He glared over his shoulder when Lucifer followed him and leaned against the doorframe, a shit-eating grin on his features.

“Will you come back to Hell?”

“No.”

“How about now?” Lucifer poked Shane in the side. “Now? How ‘bout now?”

“Get out,” Shane said, his eyes flashing black and his voice dropping to a growl. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“I taught you that, dumbass. Doesn’t work on yours truly,” He said, spreading his arms wide and smirking. Shane huffed.

“Go to a hotel or something, I have to help Ryan with his stupid newsletter tomorrow. Besides, isn’t it a bit past your bedtime, old man?” Shane arched an eyebrow, chucking the damp towel he was using on his hair in the direction of the towel rack.

“Just because I’m a few milenia older doesn’t make me an old man, little brother,” Lucifer said, his teeth long and sharp.

“I hate you.”

\---

Shane kicked his older brother- who was posing as his dad, ew- down to sleep on the couch. Lucifer grumbled about being the older child and how he should have the bed, but Shane just shot back that if he wanted the bed, he shouldn’t have shown up to Shane’s house. Lucifer slid down the rail on Shanes stair, making Shane cringe and reach out a warning hand, but Luci snapped out his wings and smirked.

“Shane, babe, I’m far better at this demon thing than you are,” He said smugly, and Shane rolled his eyes.

“Which is why you’re the king of Hell and I’m not, christ. I’m going to bed, don’t mess with my house too much.”

“No promises.”

“Asshole,” Shane shouted down the stairs. He wrinkled his nose in annoyance when he found the scorch marks on his quilt and bathroom countertop. He’d have to deal with it in the morning, however, because he could already feel sleep creeping in as he flopped down on his bed. His last thought, before passing out entirely, was _Ryan’s going to kill me._

\---

The next morning was hectic. Shane woke up to Lucifer’s face far too close to his own for comfort, and Shane scrambled back with a muffled screeching noise. Lucifer grinned broadly.

“Morning, sleepy head. I decided it would be better to be your older brother instead of your dad in this scenario, because, y’know, it’s a little weird. Especially because I look nothing like dad,” He said, a bright grin on his features, which looked much younger than they did yesterday.

“That’s nice. Get out of my room,” Shane said blankly. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“Fine, just thought you’d like to know. Also, Ryan told me to say hi to you. He’s downstairs. And apparently my name is Wyatt?” He said quickly, and Shane groaned.

“Tell Ryan I’ll be down in a sec, _Wyatt._ ”

“I can’t believe you chose that name for me, out of literally anything else,” He grumbled on his way out the door. Shane absently flipped him off and rolled over to look at his alarm clock. Why on earth Ryan was at his house at eight in the morning was a very good question.

He rolled out of bed, dagging on pants from a few days ago that he hadn’t bothered to clean. He looked around and tried to find a shirt, and his eyes lit on one that he wasn’t sure he’d seen before. It was a slightly raggedy shirt with a sports team emblazoned on the front, and Shane shrugged it on without a thought. The hem barely brushed his hips, and he frowned before just deciding to roll with it. It was eight in the morning, after all, he didn’t have to look perfect.

He stumbled down the stairs, arching an eyebrow at Ryan and _Wyatt_ sitting in his living room, chatting away. Ryan had scooched his chair around, and Shane wanted to grumble about it but he couldn’t bring himself to disturb Ryan when he had that big smirk on his face. He waved at the two of them and wandered into his kitchen, where he tried to ignore the faint muttering noises and raucous laughter of his brother. He opened his fridge and grimaced at the lack of… anything. There was a single sketchy banana in the bottom of one of the drawers, and Shane snagged it up. He went and flopped down on the couch next to his brother, and smiled at Ryan, who looked like he was trying to muffle his laughter.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Ryan said, and Shane looked down in surprise.

“That would explain a lot,” He said, and Ryan giggled.

“It looks so tiny on you,” Ryan said. Shane grinned.

“Its cause you’re tiny, baby,” He winked. Wyatt heaved a sigh next to him and dragged him down to rub his knuckles on his skull. “Ow! Knock it off, asshole,” Shane flailed his arms.

“And you said he wasn’t your lover, you little shit,” Wyatt said, smirking broadly.

“He’s not!” Shane said finally pushing Wyatt off and glaring at him. If looks could kill, then the King of Hell would be a smouldering heap of regret. Ryan snorted.

“Shane, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a brother. He’s just like you, but he got less tree genetics,” He said, sounding incredibly amused. Shane snorted.

“He got more from our mom than I did,” Which wasn’t a lie, Lucifer resembled the late queen of Hell much more closely than Shane did. Shane had his father’s more sloth-like features, but they were both a distinct mix of human and Demon. Shane hadn’t even known he was partially demon until he died, and then he had one hell of a ride trying to figure out how to do it properly. He and Luci had never been particularly close but for some reason Lucifer had been trying to bond with him more and more within the last millenia. Which was bizarre o its own, but apparently none of the other demons made the connection of them being related and Shane being a literal Prince of Hell.

“Was your dad tall?” Ryan asked, breaking Shane out of his reverie.

“Not as tall as I am, but yeah,” Shane said, trying to pat his hair back down from the mess Wyatt made of it. Wyatt smirked.

“Shane’s taller than both of our parents, and we still don’t know why.”

Shane stood up, because he knew his brother would always bring up his stupid ‘scandal’ theory.

“Ryan, have you had breakfast?”

“Hm? Oh, I had a waffle before I came over,” He said, smiling fondly at the taller man. Shane smiled back unconsciously, and Wyatt let out a long whistle.

“You’re both idiots, apparently. Uh, Ryan, Shane and I need to have a little chat in the kitchen, make yourself at home,” He said, winking over his shoulder and forcefully dragging Shane into the kitchen. He let go of Shane, practically throwing him at the counter.

“Christ- what the fuck was that for? Jesus, Lu- Wyatt,” Shane grumbled, rubbing his upper arm and scrunching up his nose.

“You two aren’t banging?” Wyatt said incredulously. Shane shook his head, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

“No, of course we aren’t,” He said. Wyatt laughed, sounding lost and amused at the same time.

“You- you don’t even see it, do you?”

“See what, Wyatt?” Shane was rapidly running out of patience with his older brother, who refused to make sense, apparently.

“The way you two look at eachother, it’s like how mom and dad looked at each other-”

“No. How- we’re not- Wyatt, you’re-” Shane stilled, and his eyes widened. “ _Fuck.”_

\---

After Shane had stopped staring blankly into space in the kitchen, horrified shock written across his features, Wyatt gently lead him back out into the living room. Ryan was reading a book, pulled from Shane’s freshy dusted shelves, and he glanced up when they walked back into the room. His look of casual nonchalance, however, immediately changed to one of concern.

“Shane? Are you alright?” Ryan stood up, setting the book down in his spot. Shane nodded absently.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Why were you here this early?” Shane said, shaking his head back into reality. Ryan still looked concerned, but he tried to ignore it.

“Oh, yeah, um. I wanted to talk to you about unsolved, and then your brother was here and-”

“What about unsolved?” Shane said, his crisis about Ryan briefly on hold.

“It’s gotten really big,” Ryan said, aa massive smile blooming over his features. Shane grinned back. “Which means I can afford to set up an actual show, and I need a co-host…” He trailed off hopefully, but Shane was already nodding.

“You better be asking me, because I’m so ready to prove you wrong on camera,” Shane said, and Ryan snorted.

“We’ll see who’s proven wrong by the end of it,” He said, but his grin was wide, and Shane just wanted to sweep him up in a massive hug. Instead, because Wyatt was standing right behind him, he clapped a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and squeezed. Ryan’s smile was blinding, and Shane was sure his own mirrored it.

Wyatt frowned thoughtfully, still in the doorway to the kitchen.

\---

Shane had purchased the very best camera equipment he could get his hands on, pulling out all the stops for his best friend. Wyatt had stayed on his couch for a few days longer, trying his hardest to wheedle Shane back into the underworld. He was well aware it wasn’t going to work, but he sucked up to Shane was much as possible. And when that didn’t work, he resorted to bribery, and then finally to downright threats.

“If you don’t come back to Hell with me, I’ll tear down your favourite portrait of mother and father,” Wyatt said one day, lounging thoughtfully over the stair banister. Shane absently flipped him off from his perch in the comfy chair, where he was reading the manuals for one of the newer cameras he bought for Ryan. It was a very large camera, but the reviews were stunning and he figured he had plenty of money to blow on swanky cameras.

“It’s your favourite too,” He said, looking up from the tedious details on how to focus the lens. Wyatt heaved a sigh and flipped off the rail. Unlike Shane, he had some fancy powers like being able to float at will. Perks of being king of Hell, he would say, shooting a wink to Shane while he flipped lazy somersaults down the grand hall in the Palace of Hell. Shane was never terribly jealous, but seeing him float down the stairs like that was certainly provocative. Wyatt grumbled and twisted his legs over his head, stepping to the ground gracefully. Shane rolled his eyes.

“What can I do to make you come back with me?” Wyatt sounded pleading, now, and Shane stood up with a sigh.

“You can’t. Sorry, buddy, but I much prefer it here than sitting behind your throne,” He said, arching an eyebrow and staring at his slightly shorter brother. Wyatt huffed and blew his scruffy hair, similar in shade and length to Shane’s but slightly curlier, out of his eyes.

“Fine, but you have to come back at some point,” Wyatt muttered, flicking a finger in the direction of the fireplace and watching the dark clouds of smoke roll across the ceiling.

“You’re going to stain my ceiling if you keep doing that,” Shane said, unimpressed and still staring at Wyatt.

“Not my problem,” Wyatt muttered darkly, walking directly through the swirling embers. Shane huffed, plopping back down on the chair and picking up the discarded manual. It wasn't a very fun read, but because Ryan knew how to edit and planned all of the episodes out meticulously, Shane figured he’d help out and get the filming to look as good as possible. Which meant reading all of the technical jargon regarding the Canon XA11.

He picked up his coffee mug, taking a sip and wincing at the cold and bitter liquid. He’d really much rather prefer a warm and bitter liquid, but Ryan wasn’t around, and Shane didn’t know how to use the coffee machine. Which was unfortunate, Shane mused, because he was really quite fond of various warm bitter liquids. Coffee, certain teas, hot whiskey, mulled punch, the list went on. He put the dark blue mug back on the small table, scrunching up his nose slightly at the aftertaste and continued flipping through the camera manual.

 ---

He woke with a start, having dozed off in the chair. His neck had a killer crick in it, and Shane rolled his shoulders back with a pained groan. He chucked the booklet onto his couch, glancing ut the big bay window in the front of his house and grumbled at the setting darkness outside. He wasn’t very tired after his little unplanned nap, but it was almost nine and Shane figured he should at least go lay down. He snagged his phone off the counter where it had been plugged in, and slowly stepped up the steep stairs. He glanced at the shower through the open bathroom door, contemplating taking a hot bath, but he decided against it when his phone buzzed. Shane smiled instinctively when the familiar ghost emoji popped up, and he rolled his eyes fondly at the text.

_From: Ghost boye_

im afraid to sleep cause ive been having nightmares :((

_From: Tree Boi_

oh no :( thats not stupid

_From: Ghost boye_

idk how to make them stop tho

Shane pursed his lips, pulling his legs closer to his chest on the bed. He had a sinking feeling that it was more than just nightmares, but he couldn't just say that out of the blue. The poor man was scared enough, and Shane didn’t want to add to his hysteria.

_From: Tree Boi_

maybe u need a change of scenery ?

_From: Ghost boye_

yea maybe

_From: Ghost boye_

thanks for listening

_From: Ghost boye_

gn shane

_From: Tree Boi_

gn ryan

\---

Shane woke up to a slew of texts from Ryan, and he squinted blearily before slipping on his glasses to try and read them. He scanned the messages, trying to make sense of the garbled language. The gist of them, as far as Shane could tell, was “I’m going on vacation for a week and I don’t know where yet”. He huffed, sliding his glasses back off and putting both his glasses and his phone back on his bedside table. There was some description of the nightmares Ryan was having, and Shane felt a headache starting behind his eyes. He had to go chew out Abezy for giving his best friend some nasty,  _nasty,_ nightmares.

He stayed in bed a while longer, staring at the ever-present floral ceiling and thinking about how he was going to make Abezy pay for this little trick. He eventually rolled over and sat up, grumbling to himself but determined to follow through his plan. He put his glasses back on, blinking at the sudden clarity. His fingers twitched, and he could feet the faint rumble as the Hell portal lit up. Shane could smell the brimstone and ash, his nose wrinkled as he wandered down the hall and down the stairs. He paused at the bottom,leaning on the banister and staring the demon in his living room down.

Abezy growled, long and deep, before trying to lunge at Shane. The flour circle on the ground around him, however, had other ideas. Abezy screamed, a truly unholy sound, before ramming the invisible wall again and again. Shane rolled his eyes at the futile attempts, plonking himself down on the chair(that had magically swooped around so Shane was facing the circle head on) and steepling his fingers. Abezy eventually exhausted himself, sliding down the barrier and settling on the ground. In demon form, Abezy looked nothing like Shane- he was a solid being, goat legs and a scarred torso that bled black. He had a pair of twisting horns, shorter than Shane’s, and a long whip-like tail. He had no wings to speak of, just tarred lumps on his upper back, and Shane almost pitied the fucker for not having the power of flight. Almost.

“Why am I here?” Abezy said, practically spitting every word. Shane arched an eyebrow.

“I think you know, actually,” Shane sounded unamused, and Abezy bared his fangs in a faint resemblance of a smile.

“The little messages I was sending your human?” Abezy said. Shane stood up to his full 6’4 height, and paced the flour circle.

“ _My human_ , remember,” Shane growled, and Abezy laughed. It was a harsh, echoing sound, and Shane was sure that to any human, it would strike a deep and unyielding fear. Unfortunately for the trapped demon, Shane wasn’t human. He reached out a hand, barely brushing the edge of the circle, and very suddenly the laughing turned to agonized screaming. Cold, icy blue flames danced under the other creature, and long ropes of light tethered the demon to Shane’s(unfortunately) burning floor. Shane was glad that Ryan had left this morning, because he was sure the entire neighbourhood could hear the frenzied shrieks. Shane drew his hand back, and Abezy slumped to the floor, smoke rising from the long welts on his hide. The smaller demon panted, long ragged breaths, and Shane sat down primly. Abezy looked up from the charred black floor, hatred burning deep in his eyes.

“I’ll stop,” He bit out, and Shane let a satisfied smile play over his lips. “But don’t think I won’t tell-”

“Lucifer?” Shane said, standing back up to kick the circle of flour open. “Go ahead.”

Abezy hissed, flinging himself out of the circle at Shane. Shane was ready for this, because god knows working with Abezy for the past thousand years had given him a good idea of his temperament. His wings swirled around, the feathers as hard as steel, and Abezy’ claws skittered across them. Caught off guard by the lack of resistance, Abezy wasn’t able to defend himself from Shane shoving him back through the portal. Shane dusted his hands together, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell of burning flesh and brimstone. He waved a hand, and the dustpan wooshed into his hand. As an afterthought, Shane summoned himself a can of Febreeze. He waved the can around, trying to convince himself “Sea Breeze” was better than well done flesh. He gagged on the ghastly smell of fake  _everything_ , but it did cover the burnt smell very well. He waved his hand through the mist, trying to disperse the smell.

It didn’t work very well, but Shane weighed his options and figured that that was enough Febreeze in his house. He tossed it over his left shoulder with a snort, and it vanished before it hit the ground. He poked at the still slightly smoking circle on his floor, frowning dejectedly. Next time he’d have to do that on a tarp or something. Demon proof tarp? Shane started sweeping up the flour, thinking about what would work as a demon tarp and if he should give one to Ryan(as a joke, of course). Maybe a fire proof bit of canvas dunked in holy water, Shane sniggered to himself. He straightened up, trying not to spill any flour. He’d also seen demon circles done with cocaine, which Shane thought was hilarious and he would do if he had any cocaine.

He dumped the fine powder in the trash, wrinkling his nose at the cloud of fine particles that rose from it. He could faintly hear his phone buzzing, still on his nightstand, and he trotted up the stairs. He’d been showing his wings and horns less and less, becoming more comfortable in his human body. He almost wondered what it would be like, to live as a human. No summoning powers, no portal to hell in his living room, no allergy to holy water. He wondered if he would believe in demons, if he wasn’t one himself. Probably not.

He smiled when he picked up his phone and looked at who was calling him.

“Hey, Ryan. How’s the mystery vacation?” Shane asked, and Ryan’s slightly tinny laugh bounced back.

“I just got here, you nerd,” Ryan said.

“How was the plane ride, then?”

“Uneventful,” ryan sighed. Shane snickered.

“No birds going through the engines, then?” Shane said, and h could practically hear Ryan’s shudder through the phone.

“God, no,” Ryan said. Shane couldn’t help the wide grin that spread over his face at the sound of his best friend’s voice. It immediately dropped, however, when he remembered his conversation with his brother.

“I’m glad,” He said quietly, and Ryan hummed noncommittally.

“You okay, big guy?” Ryan asked. Shane huffed, a bittersweet smile playing at his lips.

“Just dandy, shortstuff.”

“How dare you,” Ryan said, Shane’s abrupt change in tone forgotten in favour of arguing about how short he  _wasn’t_. Shane chuckled. “I am not short, you’re just-”

“Not short, he says,” Shane muttered good naturedly. Ryan spluttered on the other end of the line.

“You’re just ridiculously tall, and an asshole,” Ryan said, and Shane swore he could hear him rolling his eyes.

“Just an asshole, thanks,” Shane said. Ryan huffed.

“Alright, asshole, I have to go get my luggage. See you in a week,” He said, and Shane waved at nothing.

“See you in a week. Have fun,” Shane said fondly. He tossed his phone down on his couch, and wondered when he walked to his living room during the short call. He grimaced as he glanced at the charred circle before turning away and pretending it didn’t exist. His stomach grumbled, and Shane dragged his fridge open in the hopes of something edible. Slightly rotten fruit stared back at him, and he snatched the few remaining eggs off the top shelf. He was too lazy to hand wash the pans sitting in his sink, judging him silently, so he waved them all away to end up in someone’s(probably Ryans) sink. He waved his hand, snagging the small saucepan before it hit the ground and sliding it onto his stove. He’d have to make Ryan teach him how to make more than just eggs, he grumbled to himself, cracking the eggs into the hot pan with a sizzle.

He stretched his arms high above his head, flicking his wings out behind him and sighing at the abrupt weight. Scratch marks from his encounter with Abezy still glittered among the mat black feathers, and Shane ruffled them in annoyance. The sting of pulling wounds made him clutch at the edge of the counter, his knees abruptly giving out from under him. He cursed the other demon silently as he sunk to the floor. Three taps on his kitchen door, however, immediately broke him out of his thoughts and his wings vanished with a silent  _pop_. He scrambled to his feet, plastering a charming smile on his face and opening the door. Jen stared back at him, looking entirely unamused.

“Jen?” Shane asked incredulously.

“Let me in,” She said, pushing past him. Shane stepped back automatically, closing the door with a puzzled glance over his shoulder.

“I thought you went back to Hell?”

“And now I’m back, yeah, but we need to have an actual discussion,” She said, drawn to her full height and fire dancing behind her eyes. Shane nodded, slightly afraid of the tiny demon. She rolled her eyes and beckoned him forward, pointing to the couch. “Sit down,”

“Yes ma’am,” Shane said without a trace of irony, sitting primly and watching Jen with wide eyes. Jen huffed, collapsing (un)gracefully into the chair across from him.

“I’ve been thinking, and I’m sorry for yelling at you,” She said, and Shane gaped slightly.

“You’re apologising?”

“Against my better want,” She grumbled. Shane laughed, a breathy, shocked noise. “Where’s Ryan?”

“Vacation,” Shane said, flapping a hand absently. He was far more invested in where Jen was going with this apology. Jen nodded.

“Good. You haven’t hunted since you got here, have you?” She said, and Shane winced. His demonic need to tear out the throat of something Shane wasn’t fond of, but he knew that if he ignored it for too long, he’d end up killing something he didn't want dead. Like Ryan, his mind supplied. Shane shivered. His least favourite part of being a demon, Shane supposed.

Jen nodded, like she knew that he would put it off as long as he could. She probably did, to be honest. She’d been his friend for as long as she’d been a demon, and she was terribly perceptive.

“You need to do that,” She said quietly, and Shane nodded miserably. “I- do you want me to hold that body for you, if Ryan calls while you’re hunting?” She said quietly. Shane’s eyes widened.

“Would you actually do that for me?” He asked. Jen nodded. She had always been better at remembering what her original form looked like, but Shane was sure if he tried to dissolve like she usually did he’d come back with a completely wrong nose, or any other body part, honestly, and Ryan would notice. He stood up abruptly. “Thank you, Jen,” He whispered, and her human form crumbled into the demon form that all human-born demons had, a dark-mist like substance. In Hell, they had the same form as Hell-born demons, but they couldn’t hold it in the mortal plane. There were a lot of interesting logistics about it, and Shane had read as many of the books in Wyatt’s royal library as he could, but as far as he could figure it was because they were once mortal and the human realm was trying to reclaim them. Truly fascinating science behind it, he though, as the mist rammed into his chest and he screamed at the feeling of his limbs shivering out of his grip, and he could hear his own voice telling him to go  _now._

He tumbled out of his human form’s mouth, the body stumbling under new control. Shane swirled, a cloud of angry mist, and he exhaled before solidifying as something resembling Abezy. He was fairly sure Jen had been updated on the fact that he was the literal King of Hell’s younger brother, but it was still wild to see his own face gaping back at him in wonder as his long, whip-like tail twisted around his legs. He rolled his shoulders back, the heavy wings folded high against his back. He smiled half heartedly, snapping his fingers and vanishing.

He dropped to the ground, having appeared approximately two feet above the moss that stretched in miles every direction. He looked around Dart Moore, a wicked smile stretching across his face. Fanged teeth glittered in the misty moonlight, and Shane was certain that he could find a sheep suitable for his purpose. He could hear faint breathing, and he perked up his goat-like ears. He could hear a herd of sheep, miles away, and he was never more grateful for his advanced demon hearing. He growled, a deep and horrifyingly unnatural sound, and Shane felt a howl ripped out of his throat. All he could think of was the taste of sheep blood, the boiling hot liquid sliding down his throat. He growled again, long goat legs straining under his feet as he bounded across the moore. His wings stretched out behind him, long streaks of darkness in the bluish light. Rocks and trees flashed past, and he flung himself over the wooden fence that separated himself from his prey, flapping his wings once. He landed running, and he snatched a sleeping sheep in his grasp and tumbled, teeth singing into the terrified creature. Blood glinted black in the moonlight, trailing down his chest and staining his light brown fur. A scream, human, made him look up, and his eyes widened in horror. Ryan stood on the porch of the small farmhouse by the field, terror written across all his features, but thankfully not recognition. Shane growled, much quieter than he did before, before licking his lips and launching himself into the sky. His wings beat rapidly as he soared into the distance, and he snapped and landed in his living room with a tumble. His poor floors, he thought distantly, scrambling to his feet and looking his body dead in the eye. Jen, dressed in a Shane suit, looked back at him in horror. He could faintly hear Ryan’s voice, going a million miles an hour on the phone Jen had pressed to her head. Blood dripped on his carpet, the room completely silent besides the faint sounds of Ryan on the phone. Shane felt frozen in place, shame and horror written clearly across his demonic figures and mirrored in his human ones.

“Ryan? Go to bed, you need sleep. We can talk about this in more detail when you’re well rested.” Jen said quietly, and Shane was thrown by how weird it was to hear his own voice saying that. He mouthed thank you at her, and she nodded absently, hanging up the phone and looking at Shane in horror.

_“What the fuck have you done?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhh hit me up on tumblr @the-toadlet i post bfu and misc other things


	2. Act 2: The Capture and Haunting of Shane Madej

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((quick warning: Ryan dies, its not a pretty scene, and imma post a chapter summary at the end if you decide to skip it but he doesnt stay dead i promise and imma mark where the fight scene or whatever starts so you can just skip that bit if you'd like))

Shane repossessed his body, Jen stumbling into her form and looking shocked. Shane shook himself out, glad to be back in his human body. He had missed it more than he realised, but now the insatiable itch in the back of his mind to  _ kill kill kill  _ had stopped bothering him. He collapsed down on the couch, eyes wide and silently cursing his stupidity. He should have been able to hear Ryan, but he was too distracted by the smell of fresh sheep. Idiot. He would help Ryan, throwing him off the trail as much as he could, but before he could do that… Shane looked around his absolutely destroyed living room. Blood dripped down the walls, scorch marks skidded across the floor, and the royal gem of it all was the massive, charred pit in the center of the room. Jen was sitting in the comfy chair, still looking a bit shell-shocked. Her normally fluffy hair was limp from her running her fingers through it one too many times. 

“I guess we should start cleaning this up, right?” she said, her voice shaky. Shane nodded wordlessly, standing up and walking into his kitchen. He returned just as silently as he left, holding damp washcloths and spray bottles. He tossed one of the towels to Jen, dropping to his knees and starting to try and scrub the congealing blood out of his nice walnut floors. He figures he’d have to just replace the middle, where Abezy’s blood had stained the wood black and the evidence of his torture made the floor chalky and ashen. He sighed and rubbed his finger along the deep burns, raising small clouds of ash. Jen looked over her shoulder, from where she was standing on her toes to try and scrub the blood off the wall. It covered the ceiling as well, explosions of dark red amongst the tiny floral pattern. 

Shane and Jen spent most of the night scrubbing, finding deep claws marks in the floor under the carpet from where Shane had clutched to slow his rapid skid. Jen let out a choked gasp at that, and Shane agreed. His floor was almost completely ruined, and if he was right, Ryan was coming back in less than a week. His little demon sighting made him incredibly reluctant to stay, he told shane over the phone at about three in the morning, and Shane couldn’t blame him. He hmm-ed and hah-ed when appropriate, trying desperately to get blood out of his fireplace without tripping the stupid portal. He was holding a swiffer, summoned from a Walmart three cities over, with a sponge tied to the end and was trying to get enough force for it to actually work.

He was very glad for speaker phone, after he kicked Jen upstairs to his bed when she looked three steps from collapse, and he could keep scrubbing without clutching his phone to his shoulder. He was finally making some progress, the blood from the walls washed away to barely noticable pink streaks, but the scratches and burnt part of his floor made him want to beat his head on a wall. He grimaced, knowing what he had to do even as he told Ryan that he was glad he wasn’t staying where he could get hurt. He stood up to his full height, eyes flashing black and wings flicking behind him. The burns on the floor shrank, and the deep scratches shrunk. The scorch marks around the fireplace receded rapidly, invisible flames flickering around the room and the damage done in the past few days vanishing. Shane’s legs gave out from under him, but his arms stayed up as shattered glass from pictures snapped back into their frames and melting together. Shane’s arms shook violently, and he cringed, but there was one last thing he needed to do. Across the ocean, the traumatic nightmares that sent Ryan away melted from his memory. 

Shane would have erased the memories of the demon, but because they were memories of  _ him, _ Ryan wouldn’t have remembered him at all. And for all Shane’s flaws, he still wanted to keep the one good thing in his life. 

\---

Jen found Shane passed out in the middle of the floor, wings flopped back on the floor in uncomfortable positions. Jen tutted as she dragged him to the couch, shoving his weirdly soft wings out of the way and trying not to wake him. The living room looked just as it did before Shane confronted Abezy, and after Jen threw a blanket over Shane’s prone body she reset all the clocks to their proper time. 

It was one thing to have both a human-born and a Hell-born form, but quite another to turn back time for one single room. He may be a prince of Hell, Jen grumbled to herself, but he wasn’t able to keep using his power like that and now face repercussions. She made herself something, scrunching her face up in effort to snatch the neighbours pancake mix. Some days, she envied Shane’s seemingly limitless power. He could summon things with little to no strain, and while Jen could also teleport, it wasn’t as rapid fire as Shane. Honestly, she should have noticed he wasn’t a normal demon long before this. He was taller than the other demons, even in Hell, but she had just put it down to being unnaturally tall when he was alive, as well. He rarely spoke about his other family, only mentioning he had a brother who was also a demon,  and it wasn’t until Jen had brought news of her failure to bring Shane back that she realised  _ why.  _

When the literal King of Hell had heard that the young demon hadn’t been able to corece his brother back, he took her on a walk around the castle and explained why he wanted him back. Jen had nearly fainted when Lucifer had shown her a portrait of their parents, a human and the late Queen of Hell. While the kingdom knew the Queen had an honorary king,  Jen would never have imagined it was a young man with a twinkle in his eye and a scruffy beard. He did bear a distinct resemblance to both Shane and the King of Hell, however, and Jen did faint at that. 

Lucifer had told her about the fascinating powers they both had, when Jen woke up, and it explained so much about Shane. The careless over-use of his powers, which should have exhausted a normal demon, the subtle ability to step through the mortal realm and back with ease, and his full wings. Jen was always jealous of his long, feathery black wings, when her own where only the length of her arm and could barely hold her. Shane’s wings stretched a magnificent twenty-something feet, and could easily hold the lanky demon whon he so desired. 

Still, when Shane turned to his normal Hell-form in the middle of the mortal plane, Jen could barely believe her eyes. Or, rather, Shane’s eyes. She knew it was possible, of course, to have a hybrid demon, but she hadn’t ever heard of anything like it. Couple that with the powers from being one of the strongest demons in hell besides the King, and Shane was one of the most fascinating beings Jen had ever met. 

\---

Shane woke up on his couch to the smell of pancakes. He couldn’t remember how he got on the couch, but his living room looked much better and Shane figured it worked well enough to make Ryan think nothing suspicious happened. His wings were draped across his back and the floor, primary flight feathers brushed out in a way that Shane rarely felt the need to do. He struggled to sit, groaning as all the blood rushed from his head. His wings shifted out of existence, and he rolled his shoulders gratefully at the abrupt lack of weight. Jen poked her head out of the kitchen, a worried line in between her impeccable eyebrows. Shane flapped a hand at her, a tired grin quiking his lips up. She smiled slightly and popped back into the kitchen, returning a moment later to plunk a plate of pancakes on the coffee table shoved under the bay window. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” She said, watching him tist around to put his feet on the ground. He nodded absently, focused on the slightly too-thin pancakes, and Jen chucked a fork at him. He just barely caught it.

“Thank you for making food,” Shane said. Jen nodded, dropping onto the chair and staring Shane down. He met her eyes briefly.

“What are we gonna do about Ryan?” She asked. Shane grimaced and sighed. 

“I don’t know. I can’t tell him the truth, so I’m probably just going to lead him off the trail,” He shrugged. Jen wrinkled her nose up.

“That’s not a plan, Shane,” She said.

“Do you have anything better?” Shane said. Jen shook her head and sighed. Ryan was supposed to be coming back tomorrow afternoon, and if they were going to make a new plan then they had to do it soon. Shane sighed around his mouthful of pancake, looking mournful even in his ripped shirt and sleep-mussed hair. Jen stood back up, ruffling Shane’s hair and waking the Hell Portal with an exaggerated wave of her hand. Shane watched helplessly at the cloud of smoke drifting across the ceiling, soot adding a smudge to the pristine contact paper. Jen watched with him before waving him goodbye and walking through the small inferno.

Shane got to his feet, wobbling dangerously, and cursed the fact that his powers, while impressive, weren’t as flawless as they could be. Some of his more interesting abilities drained him completely, but the more basic skills that every demon could do were enhanced to a ridiculous point. Shane huffed and stood still while his vision settled and the room stopped spinning. The blood and claw marks the covered the room were gone, and all that left of Abezy’s visit was a streak of black in the very back of the fireplace. He smiled slightly in satisfaction, making his way across the room slowly. He clutched the back of chairs, sliding his feet slowly and eventually sitting on the bottom step with a gasp. Black dots were swimming across Shane’s vision, and he closed his eyes tiredly to try and make it stop. His head throbbed. 

When Shane eventually opened his eyes again, having waited until the urge to retch calmed down, he was greeted with his brother sitting in front of him looking concerned. Shane froze, trying to not leap out of his skin at the unexpected visitor. 

“Wyatt, what are you doing here?” Shane said, wincing at how raspy his voice sounded. The concerned lines on Wyatt’s forehead deepened.

“You just turned back time next to a portal, we all felt a bit of the affects,” He said, holding out a hand to show Shane the odd streaks running up and down his fingers. Shane pursed his lips and stared at Wyatt, confusion written blatantly across his features. Wyatt frowned and handed Shane a glass of water(that wasn’t there before, Shane might add), and Shane took it gratefully. He downed the entire glass, almost laughing when the black spots at the corners of his vision faded. 

“What are the streaks?” He asked eventually, setting the glass down gingerly. Wyatt leaned back against the wall and stretched his legs out, shrugging.

“I have no idea, dude,” He said, and Shane let out a long breath. 

“Are you sure it's an effect from me?” 

“Yup,” Wyatt said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. Shane rubbed his forehead with a sigh. He leaned forward to turn and look out the bay window across the room. Orange light lit up the street majestically, and he grimaced. He’d been sleeping through entire days a lot, lately, and he almost missed constantly being awake. Wyatt seemed to know what he was thinking, looking out the window with him. “When was the last time you were out of the house?” 

“Yesterday, when I was traumatising Ryan,” Shane said glumly. Wyatt flapped his hand in annoyance.

“Before that. I’m not counting teleporting to different continents,” He said. Shane opened his mouth, but closed it when he couldn’t think of anything. 

“So it’s been a while, what are you gonna do about it?” Shane said rolling his eyes. Wyatt snorted and stood up, holding out a hand. Shane took it hesitantly, letting himself be pulled to his feet and dragged outside. He took in a deep breath of fresh air, stumbling over weeds and what-not when Wyatt dragged him into his backyard. He stopped dead in his tracks, almost making Wyatt fall over, watching the beautiful sunset for the first time in years. The sun lit up clouds in all shades of pink and orange, purple fading into gold and stars just beginning to wink in the distance. Wyatt had a satisfied smirk on his face when Shane turned to him, and he rolled his eyes, but there was still a smile on Shanes face. He looped an arm around his older brother’s neck, pulling him close even as Wyatt spluttered indignantly and tried to escape. Shane hugged him as tight as he could, Wyatt eventually giving up on his futile attempts to escape, letting his younger brother hug him even as he muttered under his breath about being clingy. 

\---

Wyatt had herded Shane back into his house and into his bed, patching up a few of the spots Shane missed while his brother wasn’t looking and eventually tucking him into bed. Shane argued vehemently against this, seeing as he was a centuries old man and being tucked into bed was patronizing. Wyatt simply shoved him back on the bed and tugged the blankets up gently even as Shane attempted to get out of the bed. 

“Go to sleep,” Wyatt said irritably, pushing Shane back down on the bed with two fingers to his forehead. Shane’s eyes rolled back in his head, and Wyatt smiled in satisfaction at the very asleep man in front of him. Nifty little trick he had picked up, really, he mused as he jogged down Shane’s ridiculously steep stairs. Wyatt looked around Shane’s house and frowned. I was too clean, too perfect for Ryan not to think something was up. Books flicked out of the bookcase, dust settled on almost every surface, and a pair of Shane’s shoes shot out from behind the door to splay across the floor. Wyatt nodded slowly at the scene before him, rolling his shoulders and wandering into the barren kitchen. Unlike his brother, Wyatt actually knew how to cook. 

Wyatt yanked open the fridge, food materialising with no prompting. He could hear Shane snoring above him, and he smiled fondly as he pulled things out to make a loaf of bread. He absently held out a hand, rolling pin flickering into existence. Unlike Shane, he didn’t just summon things, he created them out of pure matter and energy. He was almost disappointed his little bro didn’t have that specific power, but Wyatt was sure that if he wanted to he could just give it to him. The turning back time thing was cool, though, and Wyatt figured that made up for it. He sprinkled flour on the gorgeous granite counter, humming to himself as the ingredients mixed themselves in a bowl behind him. He beckoned the bowl gently, and wondered if the reason Shane couldn’t control things as finely as Wyatt did was because Shane didn’t treat them as living things like Wyatt did. The lump of batter flopped out of the bowl onto the counter, and he folded it over and sunk his fist into ir with a sigh. He didn’t really have a chance to bake in Hell, but it was a fun hobby. 

Shane grimaced at the contact paper above his bed once again. Wyatt hadn’t knocked him out like that in a long time, and Shane had forgotten he could do it. The faint sound of whistling drifting up the stairs, along with the smell of bread, made Shane roll out of the bed and slowly wander down to see Wyatt illuminated by the sketchy kitchen lights and a fresh loaf of bread sitting on his counter. Wyatt looked up from the book he was reading and raised the hunk of bread he was holding in salute. Shane smiled bemusedly, tearing off a bit of bread for himself and joining Wyatt at the table. He glanced at the clock on the counter and nearly choked. 

“Ryan’s flight lands in an hour, we should be at the airport-” Shane said in a minor panic, practically vaulting to his feet. Wyatt held up a hand and glared at Shane until he sat down again. 

“Is Ryan expecting you at the airport?”

“No, but I want to be there,” Shane said, staring down at his hands. Wyatt nodded slowly. 

“I’m going to take my bread and go home, you go to the airport. If you can drive,” Wyatt said, standing slowly and snagging his partial loaf of bread. Shane stared down at the chunk in his hand, seeming to just barely realise he should finish it. He took a bite and cringed.

“You made all the ingredients, didn’t you?” He said, chewing unhappily. Wyatt snorted.

“I still don’t know how you can tell them apart, but yeah,” 

“They taste way different,” He said, putting the rest of his bread lump on the table. Wyatt rolled his eyes, waving his hand absently and the bread vanishing. 

“I’m sure they do,” Wyatt said, walking through Shane’s living room- which Shane now realised was way messier than it should have been- and sticking his hand directly into the fireplace. It crackled to life, dark flame swirling around Wyatt’s hand. He waved once before stepping through the portal, leaving Shane alone in his weirdly messy house. He could’ve sworn the shoes that were by his chair used to be on his shoe rack, but he didn’t have time to contemplate as he scrambled to put them on and call a cab. His hair was a wreck, but Shane didn’t really give a shit as he stammered out instructions to Ryan’s airport. He whipped out his phone to see if there were any updates from the man in question. There was one sleepy text informing him that the plane had taken off, and he smiled unconsciously.

“Talking to a lady, are ya?” The grumbly old cabbie said, peering at shane through his rearview mirror. Shane frowned in surprise.

“No?” 

“Ah, well, you had that little love-struck smile,” The cabbie said, chewing on his toothpick and turning back to the road. Shane huffed slightly, surprise written blandly all over his face. Wyatt had asked if they were baning, Jen said they were in love, and now a random cabbie was asking if it was a pretty lady. There was a pattern, and it was Shane being head over heels for his best friend. Shane settled back into his seat, staring at nothing and trying to figure out when he had fallen for the cute boy next door. He absently texted Ryan that he was going to the airport to pick him up, receiving a grateful response and Shane just stared at it. Was he in love with Ryan? Was Ryan in love with  _ him?  _ He scrolled back through their texts, friendly bants and what Shane had thought was merely platonic flirting. What if Ryan had meant it? What if Shane himself had meant it when he sent Ryan stupid kissy-face emojis? 

The cabbie grunted something to Shane, and he shook himself out of his daze.

“What?”

“I said, we’re almost here. D’you want me to wait? It’ll cost extra,” The cabbie said, twisting in his seat to stare at Shane. One of his eyes was squinted almost shut, and it gave the man a very pirate feel. Shane nodded, almost unconsciously, sliding across the seat to step out of the car, and the cabbie snorted and leaned back his seat. Shane’s long legs carried him effortlessly across the pavement, and he plunked himself on one of the chairs inside to wait for Ryan. He stretched his legs out in front of him and pulled out his phone, opening his texts with Ryan before he realised it. He paused, almost wanting to close it, but he just took a picture of the sign in front of him to give Ryan an idea of where he was. He closed his chat, glancing at his notifications once or twice to see if Ryan had responded, but he spent most of his time playing a terrible clicking game.  A cough above him made him look up, and there was Ryan- looking pale and shaken, but smiling nonetheless. Shane vaulted to his feet and swept the man up in a hug, which Ryan returned gratefully, sinking into the taller mans chest and not letting go. Shane clutched him tighter in concern, and Ryan made a noise that made Shane pull back in fear to look Ryan in the face. Tears prickled at the corners of Ryan’s eyes, and Shane dragged him back into his chest as Ryan let out a choked sob. He rubbed a soothing hand up and down the shorter man’s back, angry at himself for putting Ryan through this. Of all the people in the world, Ryan deserved it the least. Ryan eventually stilled, letting out a sigh against Shane’s chest and letting go of the wads of Shane’s shirt he had been clutching. Shane squeezed him once before letting him go, resting his hands on Ryan’s shoulders and staring him dead in the eye. Ryan smiled shakily, and Shane let him go. Ryan made to grab his luggage but Shane waved him off, grabbing his suitcase and leading him back to the cab, where the cabbie was snoring loudly. 

Ryan arched an eyebrow at the sleeping cabbie, but Shane just shook him awake with an apologetic look and a ten dollar bill slipped in his hand. The cabbie grumbled, sitting up and turning the key a few times. Shane settled in the back seat, hand twitching to hold Ryan’s. He set his hand face up on the seat between them, looking out the window and pretending he wasn’t blushing madly. Ryan smiled and laced his fingers through Shane’s, looking out of his own window. Shane grinned, ducking his head and squeezing Ryan’s hand. The cabbie grumbled, looking back at them and trying to remember where the tall one’s house was. 

They pulled up to the house, kitchen light still on, and Ryan hesitated before letting go of Shane’s hand. Shane missed it almost immediately, but he pulled out his wallet and paid the pirate-esque cabbie. Ryan stood on the curb, staring at his house while Shane clambered out of the car. Ryan turned to Shane, a hesitant look on his face and his knuckled white from clutching the suitcase handle. Shane pursed his lips before holding out a hand. Ryan took it gratefully, the two walking around to Shane’s kitchen door. Shane fumbled, one-handed, with the keys before unlocking the door and pushing it open and leading Ryan in. Tension seemed to drain out of the shorter man’s shoulder as he leaned his suitcase against a wall and clutched at Shane’s hand. Shane ignored the loaf of bread on the counter, obviously from wyatt, and instead pulled Ryan into another hug. Ryan sighed heavily and clung to the tall man.

“M’sorry,” He mumbled. Shane looked down in surprise.

“Why?” 

“I’m just, I came back because I saw something spooky and I’m over-reacting,” Ryan said quietly, trying to pull out of the hug. Shane clutched him tight. 

“Ryan, from what you’ve told me, that would be enough to have me keeling over in fear. I’m proud of you, really,” Shane mumbled into Ryan’s hair, his eyes wide and concerned. Ryan let out a shuddering breath.

“Thanks, Shane,” Ryan said, melting back into the hug. Shane absently pressed a kiss to the top of Ryan’s head, and Ryan giggled. Shane smiled, letting Ryan step out of the hug and sigh. 

“Do you wanna stay?” Shane asked suddenly, a blush running up his neck. Ryan grinned. 

“Would I be imposing?” 

“Never,” Shane said with a soft smile. Ryan huffed out a laugh. 

“Then yes, of course. Are we going to do what we did last time and just-” Ryan gestured to the ceiling, hoping Shane knew what he was getting at. Shane’ smile was crooked, and Ryan adored it. 

“Unless you want me to sleep on the couch or something-” Shane started, but Ryan’s visible shudder made him halt. “Are you okay?” 

Ryan looked a little startled, but his sheepish look made Shane stare disapprovingly at him. 

“I don’t know if I want to be alone,” Ryan said quietly, looking down and fidgeting with his hands. Shane ruffled his hair, and Ryan squacked. 

“Come on then, let’s go to bed,” Shane said softly, a fond smile pulling his lips up. Ryan smiled in relief, letting the suitcase fall back against the wall. Shane looped an arm around Ryan’s shoulders, pulling him close. “Last one up the stairs is a rotten egg,” He whispered, abruptly taking off. Ryan spluttered angrily, wheezing laughter echoing through the big house as they tore up the stairs as fast as they could. Shane tumbled to the landing, lifting his fists in victory as Ryan collapsed next to him, laughter painting both of their faces red. Their laughter quieted after a while, Ryan rolled on his side to grin fondly at Shane. Shane turned his head to stare at Ryan, a soft smile on his face and his eyes searching. Ryan drew in a sharp breath, his eyes dark and he leaned forward almost imperceptibly. Shane sighed softly and reached out a hand to cup Ryan’s face, his breath hitching as they drew nearer. Their lips ghosted over each others, Ryan failing to hold in a gasp at the faint contact. Shane rubbed a thumb over Ryan’s cheekbone, pulling back abruptly and sitting up with a false cheer in his voice. 

“Looks like you’re the rotten egg, Ryan,” His voice was just slightly too loud, too hysterical, and Ryan felt a curl of dread in the pit of his stomach. Did Shane not want this? Was he wrong? Shane scrambled to his feet, not offering a hand to help Ryan up like he normally would, and walked down the hall. His heart was pounding in his ears, fear and adrenaline shooting through his veins. He so desperately wanted this, this human, this life, but he couldn’t- Ryan was too good to be tainted by Shane’s demonic tendencies. He could practically hear the confusion and upset radiating off of Ryan, and he squeezed his eyes tight against incoming tears. He stepped into his bedroom quickly, trying to ignore the stinging pain of not telling Ryan why he was doing this. If he told Ryan, then he’d… Shane shuddered. He’d lose Ryan forever.

\---

The night was tense, Ryan waking up to nightmares on more than one occasion and Shane itching to pull him into his arms and tell him it’d all be okay, that he’d always,  _ always,  _ protect Ryan, but when he reached a tentative hand to touch Ryan’s shoulder the younger man had flinched away violently. Shane drew back as if burned, turning on his side to keep Ryan from seeing the hurt written all over his features. He fell into a light, tense sleep, waking only when Ryan woke up with a muffled scream from nightmares Shane hated himself for causing.

Shane woke groggily, early in the morning, to see Ryan pulling pants on hurriedly. Shane sat up with difficulty, frowning deeply at the other man.

“Are you leaving?” Shane asked, his voice husky from sleep. Ryan froze.

“You obviously don’t want me here, so yeah,” Ryan said quietly. His voice shattered Shane’s heart a little, and Shane let out a shuddering breath.

“No- no, I want you here, I’m sorry,” Shane shuffled back to sit against the backboard. He flicked on the lamp beside him and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I’m acting so weird, but I do want you here.”

“Acting weird?  _ Acting weird?  _ You kissed me, and then acted like it didn’t even happen!” Ryan said, his voice raising steadily. He straightened, leaving the sweatpants dangling off his hips dangerously as he motioned angrily with his hands. Shane cringed.

“I know, it was stupid of me-”

“No shit!” Ryan said, his voice high and upset. Shane wanted to cry. “I just- I want to know why, okay?”

Shane drew in a measured breath.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Shane said, mind racing.

“Try me,” Ryan nearly growled. Shane laughed, a sad sound with no humour. 

“Will you just trust me on this?” Shane said, his eyes wide and pleading in the faint light. Ryan scoffed. 

“If you tell me in the morning,” Ryan said, shucking his pants off and flopping on the bed, arms crossed angrily. Shane sighed and clicked off the lamp. He laid down unhappily, facing towards a still upright Ryan.

“Please, Ryan,” Shane whispered, reaching out a hand and placing it on Ryan’s surprisingly buff arms. Ryan grit his teeth, but he shivered in the cold air and Shane was just so warm, so he slithered under the blanket and let Shane clutch him tightly to his chest. Ryan sighed against Shane’s collarbone, sliding his own arms around the other man’s lanky frame and tangling his legs with Shanes. Shane pressed a kiss against Ryan’s hair, trying to memorise all the details of this moment before he lost it. 

Ryan quickly fell asleep in the embrace, a deep, dreamless sleep. He woke up slowly, not moving from the warm cocoon he was in. He could faintly hear Shane muttering into his hair, not noticing Ryan was awake, and Ryan sleepily listened to the soft speech.

“-And I can’t tell you, and it just cuts me up inside, Ryan, it really does, but if I tell you, you’ll leave me,” Shane murmured, his arms tightening around Ryan’s bare torso. Ryan absently kissed Shane’s collarbone, revelling in how the older man drew in a startled breath. 

“Good morning,” Ryan whispered, turning to look up at the sloth-like man holding him. Shane’s eyes were half lidded and he had a crooked half smile as he leaned down to kiss Ryan ever so sweetly. Ryan smiled into the kiss, winding a hand through Shane’s soft hair. He tugged slightly, and Shane made a muffled noise. Ryan pulled back, admiring the man in front of him. He rolled out of Shane’s loose embrace, stretching and sliding out of the bed. Shane sat up with a pained noise, rubbing his side, and Ryan smirked before wandering out of the room. He jogged down the stairs, glancing out the window at the bright sunlight and figuring it was closer to noon than morning. His boxers settled low on his hips, and he frowned at the random loaf of bread on Shane’s counter while he dragged his suitcase into the middle of the floor. He pulled out a pair of pants that he deemed acceptable, running a hand through his hair and donning the first shirt he pulled out. He snapped the suitcase shut and jumped when he noticed Shane in the doorway. He hadn’t heard the taller man come down the stairs, but he met the impassive gaze and stood back up.

“I’d like an explanation, now.” 

\---

Shane sat meekly on the leather couch, back hunched while Ryan sat primly on the chair in front of him. 

“You said you’d just trust me-”

“If you gave me an explanation in the morning. It’s morning,” Ryan said with a humourless smile. Shane nodded, letting out a breath through his teeth. 

“Could I just tell you it was a mistake?” Shane said hopefully. Ryan gave him a look that told shane exactly what he thought of that idea. Shane sighed again, running his hand through his hair. “You’re not going to believe me,” He warned, meeting ryan’s accusing eyes.

“You keep saying that, you know,” Ryan said quietly, slouching back in his chair. Shane nodded, adams apple bobbing anxiously. 

“I’m- I-” Shane started, fingers fidgeting while Ryan motioned him to go on. Shane took a deep breath. “I’m a demon,” He practically whispered. Ryan cupped a hand behind his ear.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” He said, annoyance dripping from every word. Shane blinked rapidly.

“I’m a demon, Ryan,” He said, confidence growing in every word. He looked up from his hands to meet Ryan’s gaze. Ryan snorted.

“Sure, Shane. And I’m the queen of-” Ryan paled abruptly when Shane’s eyes washed black and his long wings seemed to drop out of thin air onto his back. “ _ Fuck. _ ”

Shane sighed heavily, wings vanishing as rapidly as they had appeared and eyes flickering back to normal. Ryan’s face was ashen, shoulders shaking, and Shane’s eyes widened and he dove forward to catch Ryan when his eyes rolled back in his head and he flopped forward. Shane pulled the man into his arms, concern written on every feature while he scooped him into a bridal hold. He pressed his face to Ryan’s hair, trying to commit the smell of Ryan’s shampoo to memory. Shane barely noticed when a tear slipped down his cheek as he carried Ryan up the stairs, the comfy chair Ryan was sitting on floating behind him down the hall. Shane tenderly tucked Ryan into the sheets, smoothing hair back from Ryan’s face and setting the chair down on the floor behind him. Shane flopped down in the chair, rubbing his forehead anxiously and watching Ryan’s breathing. He slowly dozed off, fear over losing Ryan furrowing his brow even in sleep.

\---

Shane woke to Ryan standing in front of him, fury written on every feature. Shane scrambled upright, attempting to step forward but encountering a wall in front of him. Shane’s eyes widened as he looked down at the grainy white circle separating him from Ryan. 

“Ryan-”

“ _ No,” _ Ryan said, anger radiating from every line in his body. Shane eyed the squirtgun in Ryan’s hand nervously, knowing very well it was filled with Holy Water. While it would merely sting him, Shane didn’t want to deal with welts across his body. Ryan seemed to notice Shane’s gaze, lifting the water gun with a hollow laugh. “Who are you,  _ Demon, _ and what have you done with my friend?” 

Shane ignored the faint burn of tears behind his eyes, lifting his hands pleadingly and dropping back into his chair.

“Ryan, Ryan, it’s still me-” Shane said quietly, his hands shaking. Ryan sneered.

“Somehow I doubt that,” He said, voice cold. Shane closed his eyes tightly, trying to pretend it was just any old demon hunter, not his best friend. 

“How do I convince you that I haven’t changed?” Shane said, his voice breaking half way through. Ryan was glad Sh- the demon’s- eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see the way Ryan’s hands shook. 

“Tell me something only my Shane would know,” Ryan said, his voice catching slightly on the   _ my _ . Shane nodded, not seeming to notice the slip, and slowly lowered his hands to his lap. Tears were steadily dripping down his cheeks, now, and Ryan had to hold himself back from wiping them away. The demon looked so much like shane, the same little freckles dotting his eyelids and stubble reaching high up his cheeks. 

“When- when you decided to film Unsolved, I got the best cameras I could find,” Shane said, shoulders quivering slightly. “I just, I wanted it to go so well, because it made you so happy-” Shane sniffed pathetically, and Ryan slowly lowered his water gun. Ryan snorted, but there was no malice behind it. 

“Anyone could say that, you know,” Ryan said quietly, his voice choked. Shane’s eyes shot open, and he stood up and pressed himself against the invisible wall. Ryan dropped his stupid water pistol, stepping forward, reaching out a hand to cup Shane’s face, to run his fingers down the stubble and to wipe away Shane’s salty tears. **(a/n: here's where it starts to get deathy rip)**

A resounding crash and a scream that struck a sword straight through Shane’s heart made them both turn in fear. Abezy stood in the door, smoke flying off wounds that still bled and hatred glowing in his red eyes. Ryan instinctively put himself in front of Shane, his eyes wide and horrified and Abezy screamed again,  _ again,  _ and leaped towards them. 

Shane pressed his entire body against the glass-like texture of the invisible barrier, and a tortured scream escaped his lips. Abezy drew his arm back, the curved Holy Knife in his hand glinting in the low light. The aged leather handle smoked in abezy’s hell-warmed hand, and it seemed to plunge in slow motion towards Ryan’s heart. Shane flung himself against the wall, trying to shove Ryan out of the way, and a broken sob escaped his lips. The knife split the air with a hiss, and Ryan just stood in shock as it ripped through his chest. He stumbled backwards, confusion covering his features and he fell to his knees and forward, his foot brushing the salt just enough, and Shane threw himself at Abezy. Fury burned through his veins, his claws ripping through fragile human flesh as he scrabbled to tear out Abezy’s throat. Abezy stumbled back under the full weight of Shane’s anger, unprepared for the more powerful demon to attack. The knife dropped to the floor with a clang, blood swirling through the scrollwork on the blade. 

The only thing Shane could think, as he bit and clawed and tore, was that Ryan would never know exactly how much Shane loved him. Grief and anger fueled him, blood staining the floor as fire danced through his lungs and bloodied tears left clean streaks down his cheeks. Shane didn’t even notice when Abezy went limp under his onslaught, even as Shane’s claws continued severing through tendons and dark, almost black, blood mixed with Ryan’s fresh red. 

Shane eventually let the other demon slump to the floor, chest heaving as his talons slid in the dark blood. He turned from the torn corpse of Abezethibou, which started to flicker and burn, to drop to his knees next to Ryan. He gently rolled the still-bleeding corpse over, pulling his best friend into his lap. He ran his bloody fingers through Ryan’s hair, burning tears dripping down his cheeks to land among the soft strands. Shane didn’t even notice the tortured wail that was coming from his throat until someone coughed behind him. Shane froze and whipped around, tension draining out of his shoulders at the sight of Wyatt. Shane made a choking noise, fingers still threaded through Ryan’s hair and Wyatt nodded sadly. He stepped over Abezy’s still burning corpse, wrinkling his nose as the pools of blood, and dropped down next to Shane. Shane leaned heavily on his older brother, a sob shuddering through his body. Wyatt wrapped an arm around Shane’s shoulders, closing Ryan’s shocked eyes with his other hand. Shane cried harder at that, clutching Ryan closer to his chest. Wyatt watched impassively as a soap bubble copy of Ryan, standing in front of the mess of salt, grabbed at a sudden wound it his chest and fell to the ground. It flickered, Ryan standing again, and Shane’s sobs quieted while they watched the image repeat over and over again, like a broken record. Shane frowned, after a while, because it was changing slightly with each loop. He watched in horror as Ryan slowly, slowly, turned to face Shane. The transparent figure looked determined, lips moving insistently.

It took Shane eight loops and Wyatt six to figure out the ghost was saying  _ Shane _ over and over again. Horror twisted in Shane’s gut, and he reached out a shaking hand to brush against ryan’s last memory. 

Apparently, Shane’s perception of ghosts was completely off, he thought to himself as he surged to his feet with Ryan’s body in his arms. Wyatt scrambled up after him, concern written all over his face. Shane turned to him, anger and determination battling in his eyes.

“I’m going to get him back, Wyatt,” he said. Wyatt nodded meekly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter summary for those who didnt wanna read it:   
> -shane over exerts himself, and theres a little bit of explaining why shane's powers are interesting  
> -wyatt is a goood brother  
> -wyatt has even cooler powers than shane  
> -shane picks ryan up at the airport and theres lots of hugging and crying  
> -they kiss, but shane pretends it doesnt happen bc he doesnt want ryan to suffer through a relationship with a demon  
> -a bit of angst w ryan thinking shane is just a dick  
> -some cuddling  
> -i wrote a bonus smut scene that's gonna be added as a chapter after i finish  
> -ryan finds out shane's a demon and faints  
> -shane tucks him into bed like a good host  
> -ryan traps shane bc he thinks its a demon possesing his friend  
> -abezy comes back and tries to kill shane but kills ryan instead  
> -shane is, understandably, filled with a murderous rage at this and kills abezy  
> -wyatt is still a good brother  
> -shane's perceptions of ghosts are completely off, and he swears to get ryan back


	3. Act 3: The Heart of a Demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god im not dead heLLO
> 
> ryan's a l i v e again lskdjfsl its all v exciting and theres some background romance kinda ;))) either way i hope u enjoy

Shane stood in front of the fireplace in his living room, Ryan’s body clutched tight to his chest. His face was grim, tear tracks starks in the mess of dried blood on his face. Wyatt stood next to him, a troubled look on his face. Dark flames flickered to life in the fireplace without bidding, Shane’s fury and grief boosting his powers to an almost ridiculous level. Wyatt put a hand on Shane’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. Shane sighed in response, turning to look at his brother while the deep red light illuminated them both. For a second, Wyatt was thrown by how much the man in front of him looked like their mother, and nothing like the Shane he knew. 

“Let’s do this,” Wyatt said quietly, stepping through the smoke without waiting to see if Shane would follow. Shane nodded, watching his brother vanish and steeling himself. He kissed Ryan’s icy forehead before plunging into the portal. 

Shane closed his eyes at the twisting feeling in his stomach, feeling his human exterior peel away in the heat. He opened his eyes briefly, relief washing through him when Ryan’s fragile body remained unscathed. Stone clicked underfoot, and Shane grinned wickedly at the feeling of home. His long, goat-like legs carried him through the halls rapidly, where Wyatt was nowhere to be seen and massive portraits watched impassively from the walls. Shane wasn’t sure when Wyatt got the portal to end up directly in the Palace of Hell, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. Doors swung open before he could even think, the ever-changing pathways snapping to lead him directly to his quarters. The heavily gilded red doors clapped open, a gust of cold air sending him shivering while he made his way across the thick carpet. Massive windows covered one of the walls, each showing a different image. Without thinking, Shane changed one to view his old home. Ryan’s ghost was flickering, being pulled ever towards the portal, and Shane pursed his lips in a fine line. He stood a second longer, watching Ryan fall, over and over again, before swishing around and surveying the large room before him. High, vaulted ceilings glittered with gold and plush carpet bled underfoot, while slightly less extravagant doors sat nestled in the walls. Portraits of his parents watched him from high on the walls, and Shane felt tears start to slide down his cheeks once more. He walked forward slowly, the emotional toll of losing Ryan finally starting to kick in as he instinctively summoned Ryan’s bed into the middle of the floor. Sheets fluttered slightly, and Shane gently laid the body of his best friend down on the mattress. 

He smoothed Ryan’s blood-crusted hair back, kneeling next to the bed and he let himself grieve. Great, wracking sobs shook his body as he clung to Ryan’s hand, not even noticing when Wyatt slipped into the room. Wyatt’s dark fur swished around his legs, wings folded primly as he joined Shane next to Ryan’s bed. Shane looked up, tears dripping messily down his sallow face. Wyatt silently handed him a book, a hefty tome with dust clinging to the pages and a cracking leather cover. Shane opened it hesitantly, eyes scanning the old words rapidly. He gasped, looking up at Wyatt.

“I- you’re saying I can get him back?” Shane whispered. Wyatt nodded. 

“Of course we can, little bro,” Wyatt said, his voice rumbling through the room. Shane laughed, hysterically, lifting Ryan’s limp hand to his mouth. 

“I’m going to get you back, Ryan. Promise,” He murmured into the skin, standing up and laying the hand gently on the bed. Excitement glittered in his eyes as he filled through the book, muttering to himself. 

\---

The brothers spent most of the night, as far as it could be called in the timeless hellscape, in the library. It seemed like a simple procedure, just heal Ryan’s body and return his soul to it. The only catch, they found out, was trying to get ahold of Ryan’s soul. First of all, even though Wyatt was the king of hell, they didn’t know where his soul  _ was _ . Shane was sure it was in Heaven, because Ryan was pure and magnificent, and Wyatt was pretty sure it  _ wasn’t _ . Cavorting around with a demon for a year and a half really didn’t do good things for the man upstairs. Shane paced the length of the library, anger radiating from every feature as he grumbled about how useless it was to be a prince of Hell if they couldn’t locate even one soul. Wyatt watched him sadly, his brow furrowed and his liquid black eyes flicking back and forth from the book thrown on the table before him and his seething brother. 

Wyatt knew he was dying. He could feel the once instinctive power that flowed through him taking longer and longer to trickle through his fingertips, the lapses of time, and he knew that he needed Shane to take his place. He needed someone to keep the massive kingdom from falling into turmoil, reckless demons like Abezy taking over and running rampant. Shane wouldn’t understand why Wyatt started shoving responsibilities on him, why he started dragging him into political affairs, not until it was too late. Unless Wyatt told him. If Shane knew the true reason Wyatt was trying to repair their fragmented relationship was political, and political alone, he would never have trusted the older demon. 

Shane flung himself into the wide chair across from Wyatt, startling the other demon out of his train of thought. Shane was breathing heavily, annoyed confusion slitting his eyes and making his wings flick angrily. His cat-like tail whipped around his ankles, and he pursed his lips. Wyatt shrugged helplessly. 

“We have to find him, Wyatt. We have to,” Shane muttered. Wyatt felt a pang, deep where his heart would’ve been if he was human. 

“We will, lil’ bro. Promise,” Wyatt said, a bittersweet smile twisting up his features as he held a long, taloned, hand out for Shane to shake. Shane stared at Wyatt for a beat, silently judging his intentions before grabbing the proffered hand. 

\---

Shane had slithered back through the portal to the human realm to try and recapture Ryan’s remaining fragments of soul before it got dragged away into the pits of Hell. Wyatt plastered a hopeful smile on his face, waving his younger brother off. It dropped immediately, however, and he turned around briskly. 

His once political motivations were getting personal. Wyatt, as little as he wished to admit it, cared about his younger brother and his lover, and he was going to try his damndest to get Ryan back. Even if it meant talking to his mortal enemy.

The smooth stone under Wyatt’s feet slithered, leading directly to the imposing doors of his study. They swung open with a bang, smacking the thick walls on either side. His offices were much less extravagant than Shane’s quarters, furnished simply and practically. The ceiling was less vaulted, almost at an ordinary height, and gauzy black curtains hung in front of the windows instead of the heavy crushed velvet that was draped in Shane’s. Wyatt gritted his teeth and strode across the worn carpet, pulling out a book- bound with worn blue leather- and tossing it onto his desk. The pages flicked themselves, white light seeming to glitter in the binding, and they eventually stopped, fluttering gently. Wyatt grimaced, sketching the designs drawn on the page midair, snorting at the light blue lines that were left with his claw. The second his talon touched the other side of the circle, it vanished. There was a burst of light, a flurry of feathers, and suddenly the King of Hell was face to face with Barachiel, who was looking very displeased about being there. Rose petals were scattered elegantly across his silken robes, and Lucifer sniffed haughtily.  

“I need your help,” He practically spat, sneering when the angel laughed. The sound was clear as a bell, ringing pleasantly. It made Lucifer’s skin crawl. 

“What ever could you need my help with, Brother?” Barachiel said, a self-satisfied smirk playing with his stupidly perfect lips. 

“Don’t call me brother, Asshole. I need you to help me find a soul,” Lucifer said, pressing his palms flat against the cool wood of his desk. Barachiel hummed slightly, perching himself on a chair that wasn’t there before. 

“Why do you need my help, of all things?” 

“I don’t know where the soul is, Barachiel,” Lucifer snarled, and the angel smirked again. 

“Of course, the King of Hell doesn’t even know where one measly soul is,” Barachiel said with a snort, rising elegantly to his feet. He brushed the ever-present white rose petals out of his hair, watching impassively as they covered Lucifers carpet. Lucifer himself wanted to strangle him, but there was a very fine line of what a King could and couldn’t do in his office. 

“Barachiel, I’d like to remind you we’re in my domain, so no mouthing off,” Lucifer said, curling his lip in annoyance. Barachiel huffed a laugh. 

“Right, okay, demon boy. What soul are you trying so desperately to find?” 

“His name is Ryan Bergara,” Lucifer said, glancing over Barachiels shoulder and frowning when he heard the familiar  _ bang _ of the portal. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” He muttered, shooting a dark glare at the angel before brushing past him and into the hallway.  Shane was standing at the end of the hallway, anger dripping from every feature and he held up a jar to show his older brother. 

“I found him,” Shane shouted down the hallway, disgust dripping from every word. Lucifer nodded, the click of his hooves against the hall echoing flatly. From a distance, the jar in Shanes hand looked like any ordinary jar. Up close, however, the runes etched into the glass were glaringly evident and the blue smoke inside made it evident that this was no mason jar. Lucier held out his hand for it, and Shane set it down gently. 

“Thank you, Shane,” Lucifer said quietly, and Shane huffed. 

“Can’t we give him a bigger jar or something?” Shane asked, his goat-eyed gaze fixed on the swirling fog in the jar. 

“He won’t be able to tell the difference,” Lucifer said quietly, watching his younger brother with a tilted head. Shane sighed and nodded, turning to the wide doors next to him and vanishing into his chamber. The heavy wood closed with a resounding _clang,_ and Lucifer nearly jumped out of his skin when Barachiel whistled from the end of the hall.

“That was dramatic, wasn’t it?” The angel sing-songed, sauntering down the hall like he owned the place. Lucifer snorted to himself when he noticed the hallway sneakily adding tiles between him and the approaching being, returning his attention to the crystal bottle in his hand. 

“Let’s go back to my office, before your holy legs give out,” Lucifer called down the considerably longer hallway. Barachiel snorted and turned back, almost running into the door that was abruptly right behind him. 

\---

Shane slammed his fist against the wall, gritting his teeth then the wooden frame several feet above him shuddered with the movement. His mothers judgemental eyes followed him, the black pits staring him down. 

“I didn’t ask for this, you know!” He shouted at the painting. It sat impassively, as paintings do, and Shane punched the wall again. Cracks bled out from under his knuckles, and he laughed bitterly. Ryan’s body was still in the middle of the room, starting to stiffen even with all of Shane’s efforts. An almost invisible barrier circled the bed, keeping the stifling heat out and halting the passage of time, and Shane whipped around rapidly to throw himself at it. Logically, he knew he couldn’t get through it, but he wasn’t thinking logically. He just wanted to hold Ryan, consequences be damned. The bubble around the bed shivered, but held strong against Shane body slamming it over and over again. He screamed, the sound hoarse against his throat, and he eventually slid to the ground with a broken noise. Ryan’s death was slowly driving Shane insane, even with a possible cure on the horizon. If anything, the waiting made it worse. What Shane wouldn’t give for this nonsense to be over, for him to be happy and in his house with Ryan once more, it made his heart ache. 

\---

Lucifer paced in his office, ignoring the petulant angel peched in front of him. The jar containing the last vestiges of Ryan’s soul sat in the middle of his desk, the blue mist swirling slowly. 

“Just use it to track the rest, jeez,” Barachiel said, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“If I use it to track it, it won’t be the full soul. You know that,” Lucifer grumbled, shooting a glare at the angel. Barachiel snorted.

“If you knew what was going to happen, why did you summon me?” The angel said, arching an eyebrow in displeasure. Lucifer snarled. 

“Unlike you, Angel, I know how to find it. I just need you to do it for me,” He said, flinging himself into his cushioned chair across the desk from Barachiel.

“You need  _ me  _ to do your dirty work?” Barachiel said, staring at Lucifer like he was insane. “No, no, and just to let it sink in:  _ no. _ ” 

Lucifer snorted. 

“Sucks for you, fluffy boy, you don’t have a choice,” He said, stretching offhandedly and smirking. “Besides, it’s not that hard. Just lend me some of your feathers, and then escort my brother to this soul.” 

Barachiel blinked, before surging to his feet. 

“No! Are you fucking insane? I would never give the  _ king of hell _ an angel feather! Jesus, I should have just told you to fuck off and leave me alone!” He shouted, leaning over Lucifer’s desk imposingly. Lucifer, to his credit, only snorted. 

“Calm down, chicken wing, I just need one to see if it’s in Heaven. I’ll even give you one of mine as a sign of good faith,” He said, reaching behind him and ripping out one of the smallish black feathers tucked over his secondaries. He winced slightly and held it out to the angel, eyes widened hopefully. Barachiel snorted. 

“What’s the catch, demon?” He said, slowly dropping back to his seat. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“There is none, and if the feather survives, I’ll give it back,” He said, letting the angel pull the downy black feather out of his talons. 

“If?” 

“I’ve never done this before, god knows what’s gonna happen,” He said with a wicked grin, rising to his full height. Barachiel grimaced, pulling a downy feather out of his wing, hear his shoulder. He held it out, flinching back when Lucifer reached for it, but he finally let the demon tug it out of his hand. Lucifer rolled his eyes, but he set the pure white feather down on his desk as gently as he could. He snapped, and a very large stone basin of water dropped onto his desk, sloshing the holy water everywhere. Lucifer drew back with a hiss, shaking the droplets off his fingers while Barachiel snorted. 

“I can’t believe you summoned holy water into  _ Hell _ . Real classy, bud,” The angel said, leaning back dangerously and arching an eyebrow. 

“Fuck off, daddy’s boy,” Lucifer muttered, dropping the fine white feather in the water and plucking another of the inky black feathers out of his wing with a wince. He added it to the basin, tracing invisible patterns over the water and touching the base of the jar to the surface of the unnaturally still liquid. It flashing, blindingly bright, making both Lucifer and Barachiel flinch backwards. The water gleamed silver, the two feathers gone. Barachiel rubbed his eyes, grimacing at the flickering spots over his eyes, but Lucifer leaned over the basin eagerly. It only showed a landscape, undeniably Hell in appearance, and Lucifer slammed his fist down against the desk in anger. The water rippled, picture vanishing. 

“He’s in the second level,” Lucifer said, waving his hand in annoyance. The Basin vanished, along with Barachiel’s chair(mostly an accident, but it did wonders for making Lucifer less angry), and he resumed his frenzied pacing. Barachiel squawked indignantly from the floor, scrambling to his feet to glare at the devil himself. 

“What’s on the second level?” He said, irritation obvious in every word. 

“Lust,” Lucifer grumbled. “Shane’s not going to like that,” 

“Shane?” Barachiel said, waving a hand and summoning himself a new chair. 

“The brother you’ll be guiding to get the soul back,” Lucifer said with a grim smile. Barachiel frowned. 

“Must I?”

“Yes. You must, and it’s going to be a pain, and I’m too busy to do it myself,” Lucifer said. He gestured wildly with his hands, small flickers of red blurring between his talons. Barachiel sighed dramatically. 

“Do I get a map?” 

“Yup,” Lucifer said, popping the ‘p’. He snapped, red sparks bouncing off of his long claws. A scroll, old and cracked, dropped heavily onto Barachiel’s lap. 

“If you want my help you have got to stop being rude to me, you know,” The angel complained, unfurling the scroll and peering at the charcoal inscriptions. 

“We’ll see,” Lucifer muttered, flopping into his chair and bouncing his goat-like leg restlessly. Barachiel hummed, rolling the scroll back up and leaning forward. 

“Why would Shane not like Ryan being in Lust?” He said, looking serious for the first time since he was summoned. Lucifer sighed, worrying a lip between his teeth.

“Ryan’s not going to recognize Shane. He’s going to be so sex driven that he’ll fall on anything, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he was…” Lucifer trailed off, wincing almost subconsciously. Barachiel nodded. 

“What’s going to happen after we take the soul out of the level?” 

“He should be fine after that, but I haven’t taken a soul out of a level in millenia, so I have no idea,” Lucifer said with a sigh. “Let’s go get Shane.”

\---

Shane was sitting in the middle of his room, back pressed against the invisible barrier around Ryan’s bed, covered in bruises. He didn’t seem to notice the slow drip of black blood down his face, his nose set at an unnatural angle from slamming into the bubble too many times. He didn’t even blink when his doors slammed open, staring aimlessly at his brother and the angel trailing him. Barachiel winced at the state of the man slumped in the center of the room, running a hand through his dark hair and shaking the ever-present white rose petals off. Lucifer crossed the wide room quickly, dropping to his knees in front of his brother.

“I found his soul, Shane,” He said gently, reaching out a hand to lay on Shane’s wrists. Shane blinked rapidly, seeming to notice the intruders for the first time, and surged to his feet. 

“Where?” He said frantically, rubbing a hand over his face and looking at the pitch-coloured blood smeared across it uncomprehendingly. Lucifer straightened and frowned at his brother.

“The angel here will show you where,” Lucifer said. Shane nodded eagerly, electing to ignore the fact that his brother didn’t answer his question.

\---

Shane wrapped his feathery black wings tightly around his body, the warmth cocooning him. The long cave in front of the demon and the angel was chilled, icy droplets raining down from the stalactites and sliding down the two creature’s wings. Shane glanced over at his companion occasionally, trying to figure out why his elder brother decided to summon him. 

“You’re not subtle, you know,” The angel finally grumbled, staring over his stark white wings and arching an eyebrow. Shane jumped at the sudden sound.

“Should I be?” He said, twisting his warm wings further around his bare torso. Why he didn’t think to wear a jacket was beyond him, considering his wings would have merely phased through the fabric. 

“Maybe,” Barachiel said with a grin. Shane snorted.

“Why did Luci choose you, of all people?” He said, eyes wide and curious. 

“He didn’t, I chose him,” Barachiel said, returning his gaze to the cavern in front of them. Shane narrowed his eyes. 

“You’re blushing. Why did you answer his summoning?” 

“We have some history, you know. We grew up together in a way,” Barachiel said with a snort. 

Shane frowned, stepping closer to the angel. Barachiel glared over his shoulder, and Shane let out a triumphant laugh. 

“You have a thing for him! Oh my god, and I thought I was bad, falling in love with a human, but-” Shane cut himself off with a hysterical laugh, looking surprised he still  _ could  _ laugh. “You fell in love with the devil himself! That’s rich, feathers,” Shane giggled, looking very pleased at the annoyed expression on Barachiels face.

“I hate you, you know,” The angel grumbled. Shane nodded contentedly. 

“Good for you,” He said cheerfully. Barachiel grit his teeth when Shane started to whistle what sounded alarmingly like a love song.

\---

Shane stopped whistling One Direction when the cave abruptly ended in a very large snake. Barachiel smiled politely at the hulking beast, which was hissing threateningly, and held up a scroll that seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Hello, gentle creature! We are here under Lucifer’s orders, to retrieve a lost soul,” He said cheerfully, not even blinking when the snake hissed loudly and dove for him. Shane let out a startle noise and leapt forward, but Barachiel just tutted and Shane blinked at the scene in front of him. The angel was pulling a glowing gold sword out of the top of the massive snake’s mouth, flicking the blood off of it and frowning at the red streaks covering his snowy wings. He set the scroll on the green snout laying on the ground in front of him and continued walking. Shane stumbled after him, staring at the slain beast. 

“I hope you’re aware that Luci’s not gonna take well to you killing his pets,” Shane said, jerking his gaze away from the dead snake to glare at Barachiel. The angel shrugged. 

“I’ll just revive it on the way back,” he said carelessly, stepping out of the cave and onto the grass. Shane followed, looking around Purgatory anxiously. Barachiel noticed his gaze and frowned. “He’s not here, Shane. But maybe you should wait while I go fetch him?” The angel said quietly. Shane looked away from the crowd of people in the distance to glare at him. 

“I’m not going to wait,” The demon growled, wings twitching angrily in the artificial sunlight. Barachiel nodded, his pace quickening through the long grass. Shane followed, eyes narrowed as they stepped into another cave tunnel. His wings clapped around him, and Barachiel shivered in the sudden gust of wind. They continued walking. 

\---

Shane was less than thrilled when they stopped a few meters away from the second guardian and Barachiel whipped out his great big sword again.

“For god’s sake, sparkle wings, they know me. Prince of Hell, remember?” Shane grumbled, flicking his long wings behind him and striding towards the minotaur. The creature ambled to its feet, snorting angrily. “Ted! It’s me, Belial!” Shane sing songed, spreading his arms out and grinning brightly. Ted made a few hesitant noises, before bellowing happily and scooping up the small demon. Shane laughed happily, and Barachiel watched in awe and minor horror. Shane eventually detangled himself from the massive creature, promising to be back soon to visit, and introducing the angel. Barachiel quickly vanished his sword and waved hesitantly, and Ted bowed extravagantly. Barachiel mirrored the action as soon as his brain caught up to the events happening, and Shane nodded approval. 

“We’ll be going now,” Shane announced, grabbing Barachiel’s arm and dragging him around the minotaur. Barachiel hissed in pain, Shane’s talons digging into the angel’s arm. 

“Belial?” He said, once Shane had released him. Shane snorted. 

“My old name, but it’s been quite a while since I’ve used it,” Shane said, grinning at the angel. He froze in the opening of the cave however, once his eyes lit upon the scene in front of him. Hundreds of naked bodies were interlocked, moving in tandem, but dead in the middle was  _ Ryan.  _ He was surrounded by other people, moaning and throwing himself on them gleefully. His eyes were blank and empty, and Barachiel winced. 

“This is why I wanted you to wait,” He said quietly, the words lost on Shane, who had flicked out his wings angrily and taken off. Barachiel heaved a sigh and followed, preparing himself for when Shane ripped Ryan out of the fray, ignoring the pitiful cries of the souls below him. Tears were running down Shane’s face as he shoved Ryan’s soul at Barachiel, and Barachiel frowned in sympathy. Shane dove back towards the cave entrance, and Barachiel followed slowly. Ryan was whining, scrabbling at Barachiels chest and Barachiel practically threw him into Shane’s arms in the cavern. Shane dug his claws into Ryan’s soul, sorrow written across his face when Ryan cried out. Barachiel watched, hoping that Lucifer was right about Ryan’s wits returning outside of the second circle of Hell. 

\---

Shane didn’t say a word the entire walk back, his grip on Ryan’s arm seeming to tighten with every step. Ted nodded at them as they passed, and Barachiel waved when Shane did nothing. They crossed purgatory with ease, Ryan’s bare feet stumbling to keep up with Shane’s unnaturally rapid pace. The other souls around them stared in alarm, and Barachiel grit his teeth in a resemblance of a smile. 

“Shane-” Ryan whispered, as they passed the corpse of the snake. Barachiel waved a guilty hand at it, cringing when it snarled loudly and reared backwards. Shane froze in place, letting go of Ryan’s arm with a noise akin to agony. The soul stumbled backwards, fear covering his features as he covered his nethers and stared at the angel and demon in front of him. Barachiel held out a placating hand with a gentle smile, glancing at the very large snake just behind Ryan and trying not to grimace. 

“Ryan, I’m here to help you,” The angel said quietly, trying to infuse his words with as much warmth as he could Ryan furrowed his brow, eyes still wide in fright. 

“Who are you? Why am I here? Where are my clothes?” He said, voice raising in pitch and volume. Barachiel smiled. 

“My name is Barachiel, and I’m an angel. All of your other questions will be answered soon, if you take my hand,” Barachiel said, holding out an inviting hand. Ryan sent a frightened glance at the demon next to Barachiel, who still hadn’t turned around. His wings were quivering slightly, and his back was taught in an emotion Barachiel couldn’t name. Ryan looked around and took a hesitant step forward, sliding his hand into the angel’s. He immediately slumped forward, eyes rolling back in his head. Barachiel caught the limp man.

“Shane,” He said quietly and the demon let out a choked noise. “He’s asleep, it’s okay,”

Shane whipped around, eyes wide and frantic. Tears were pouring freely, and he gently scooped the soul into his grasp. He stared down at the peaceful soul in his arms, seemingly frozen. He took a shuddering breath and looked at Barachiel. 

“Let’s go get your man back,” The angel murmured, clapping a hand on Shane’s shoulder before leading the way back up the caverns, sending a dark look at the snake behind him. The snake hissed threateningly, but turned away.

\---

The second Shane stepped out of the cave opening, far across the wasteland surrounding the royal castle, Ryan’s soul started to fray around the edges and become less solid. Shane clutched it to his chest in alarm, but Barachiel just uncapped the large jar they put there before their expedition and held it out invitingly. It already contained the silvery blue from Ryan’s ghost, and Shane sighed sadly before releasing Ryan’s soul. It dissolved immediately and flitted into the jar, and Shane heaved a shuddering breath. Barachiel looped an arm around the demons shoulder and dragged him in for a side hug, vowing silently to never tell Lucifer about this moment. 

\---

Shane shoved the grand doors of the castle open, marching in with his wings spread grandly. Barachiel followed, the jar clutched in his arms. Shane’s eyes flashed and the castle obligingly lead directly to his quarters. Lucifer stepped out of his office and nodded stiffy to his brother and the angel following him. Barachiel smiled grimly, holding up the jar in a silent acknowledgement. Lucifer let out a long breath and followed Shane into his rooms, sharing a brief concerned look with Barachiel. 

Shane pressed the palm of his hand against the invisible barrier, closing his eyes against the pop of frozen air. Ryan’s body lay just as he left it, looking like Ryan had just fallen into bed and dozed off, minus the massive gash in his chest.  Shane grit his teeth. 

“I’m going to have to possess his body to heal it, aren’t I,” He said. Lucifer nodded to himself, opening his mouth to respond, but Shane was already a cloud of dark mist and vanishing into Ryan’s body. It jolted, blood dripping off his lips, and Shane made an agonized noise. Barachiel unconsciously stepped closer to Lucifer, wincing at Ryan’s body convulsing in agony. The angry wound, deep in his chest, was starting to slide closed along the edges, sizzling angrily. Lucifer grimaced, pulling the jar out of Barachiel’s grasp gently. Barachiel looked at him in alarm, but he just waved an unconcerned hand. 

Shane twitched in Ryan’s body, breathing heavily and flexing his fingers repeatedly. Searing agony throbbed in his chest, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood. They’d have to fix that, he thought distantly, focusing mostly on closing the massive wound. It felt like fire, racing up and down his- or Ryans, rather- ribs, filling his lungs with smoke and making him want to scream if he could breath. Blood clogged his throat, and he coughed again. He could see Barachiel and his brother in the door, hazily swimming in and out of his vision. Darkness swirled in the corners of his eyes, and he forced himself to close the wound faster. His mouth tasted like metal, and he grimaced and spat the blood onto Ryan’s quite ruined sheets. He heaved a breath in, the blood in Ryan’s lungs starting to vanish, much to Shane’s relief. He coughed, tangling his fingers in the bloodied sheets and trying to ground himself with deep breaths.

Lucifer watched impassively, twisting open the jar in his grasp when he deemed Ryan’s body healed enough. The blue mist swirled angrily, shooting out of the glass and into the body. It flung forward with a gasp, dark smoke trailing over Ryan’s lips as he gasped in pain. Barachiel grabbed Lucifers elbow and dragged him out of the room as Shane stumbled into a solid form. The doors snapped shut  with a clang, and Shane turned to look at Ryan with fear in his eyes.

Ryan gaped at the demon, his eyes wide in horror. Shane was frozen in place, sure his expression mirrored Ryan’s. They stood like that for an indeterminate amount of time, before Ryan shakily held up a hand in a pleading movement. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” He whispered, and Shane let out a shuddering breath in a parody of a laugh.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” He said quietly, taking a step back. Ryan’s brow furrowed minisculely, and Shane wanted to sob. He had missed Ryan so much, so dearly- and seeing him, looking at Shane in such fear, it  _ broke _ him. “Ry- Ryan, I- it’s me,” He said, stumbling over the words and sinking to his knees. He cast his mind back, trying desperately to remember his human features. Ryan coughed, blood dripping off his lips, and he looked at in horror. 

“What the fuck happened?” He muttered, looking at the growing red stains. Shane huffed. 

“You died,” He said quietly. Ryan’s gaze snapped back to him, eyes hardening.

“Why should I trust you, demon?” He spat, and Shane cringed. 

“I-” He drew in a sharp breath, “I’m Shane,” He whispered, eyes closed in shame. 

“I couldn’t hear that,” Ryan said coldly. Shane surged to his feet. 

“I’m Shane! It’s me, this is-” He choked on a sob, “This is what I look like, this is me,” 

Ryan’s eyes widened. 

“Oh my god,” He breathed, pushing the blood stained sheets out of his lap and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Shane stepped backwards. 

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” He said, before turning and bolting out of the room. He could distantly hear Barachiel and Lucifer arguing in the library, and he ran towards that. He rammed the library doors with his shoulder, ignoring the shocked pair staring at him. Shane scrambled towards the shelf across the room, pulling out books haphazardly and flicking through their contents as fast as he could. 

“Shane, what in god's name are you-” Lucifer started, annoyance furrowing his brow. 

“He hates me, Wyatt!” Shane said, louder and much more frantic than he expected. He threw the book in his hand to the floor, cursing it’s useless contents. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, and said, much gentler this time,

“What is throwing my books going to do to fix that?”

“I know there’s a way to become human, I’ve seen it before, I just-” Shane said, jumping when Lucifer slammed the tome in his hands to the floor. 

“No,” He snarled. 

“What?” Shane said quizzically. Lucifer’s eyes were flaming, his wings spread angrily.

“I won’t allow you to become human, Belial,” Lucifer said coldly.

“You can’t stop me,” Shane said, anger and incredulousness warring across his features. Lucifer smiled grimly. 

“Try me, little bro,” He said, claws seeming to gleam in the red light surrounding them.  Barachiel was making alarmed noises in the background, but the two demons paid him no mind. 

“Why the fuck would you want me to stay as a demon?” Shane said in annoyance, wings stiff in anger behind him. Lucifer laughed, the sound devoid of humour.

“You think I got close to you because I wanted to? No, Belial, I need you to take the throne after I die,” He said, fangs shining menacingly. 

“Fuck you,” Shane said coldly, darting forward and clawing at Lucifers throat. Barachiel made a shocked sound, and suddenly the angel was between them, hands wrapped around Lucifers horn and lips pressed against the demons. Shane stumbled back in shock, and Lucifer himself seemed frozen, Barachiel seeming to clutch him as close as possible. Shane watched in surprise as Lucifer slowly melted into the liplock, eyes closing and hands dropping to the angel’s hips. Shane stood still for a brief moment, watching as the angel and devil seemed to get as close to clothed sex as possible, before diving back for the bookcase and pulling out books as fast as he could. 

Barachiel pulled away from the kiss slowly, watching Lucifer with hooded eyes. He seemed quite shocked and little out of it, but anger crossed his features when he noticed Shane muttering words in a forgotten tongue over Barachiel’s shoulder. Barachiel tightened his grasp on Lucifers shoulders, whipping his around to look the angel dead in the eye. 

“Let him be, Luci,” He said quietly, arching an eyebrow and looking unimpressed. Lucifer gritted his teeth in annoyance but didn’t fight against the angel. Shane let out a shout of surprise when the deep blue mist shot at his face, but when it cleared, he couldn’t feel his wings or his tail. He looked up in surprise at how tall Barachiel and Lucifer looked, and he winked cheekily before running out of the library. The castle didn’t respond to him at all, he noticed with glee, shoving open the massive doors that lead to his quarters with difficulty and almost falling over they opened. Ryan stared at him from across the room, where he was peering at the portraits  high above him. 

“Shane?” He said uncertainty. 

“Ryan,” Shane said breathlessly, a smile cracking over his face as he ran to scoop the smaller man up in his arms. “I missed you,” He murmured, and was rewarded with a surprised laugh and arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace. 

“Jesus, how long was I down for?” Ryan said, giggling breathlessly when Shane tightened his grip. 

“Too long,” Shane muttered, pulling back to stare Ryan in the eye. Ryan smiled lightly, tilting his head in confusion at the dark look on Shane’s face. “What do you remember?” 

“Not much? We were in your house, and then,” Ryan furrowed his brow. “I did die, didn’t I?” 

Shane nodded wordlessly. Ryan bit his lips and tightened his grasp, leaning his head on Shane’s chest. 

\---

Lucifer marched down the hall, Barachiel by his side, looking put out. 

“Luci, calm down, Christ,” Barachiel muttered, hurrying to keep up with Lucifer's long gait. Lucier snorted, heaving open the doors to Shane’s quarters. 

“Belial, I hope you’ve got your shit packed,” Lucifer snarled, opening a portal directly under the couple’s feet. Ryan let out a surprised shout before they dropped, and Barachiel smacked Lucifer’s arm in annoyance. Lucifer growled. “He deserved it,” He said sullenly.

“Be that as it may, Ryan didn’t,” Barachiel said. Lucifer huffed.

“They were over a bed, it’s fine,” Lucifer said. Barachiel nodded approvingly. 

\---

Shane and Ryan bounced uncomfortably on Shane’s bed, after dropping directly through the ceiling. Shane stared at the blood, dried and crusty, and froze in Ryan’s arms. Ryan glanced at the mess and looked back at Shane, who looked like he might throw up. 

“Shane? Buddy, it’s okay,” Ryan said, forcibly turning Shane’s face to look at him. Shane was ashen, looking quite shaken, and Ryan let out a surprised huff when Shane abruptly dragged him into a bone-crushingly tight hug. 

“You’re not allowed to die on me ever again,” Shane said. Ryan nodded, resting his chin on Shane’s shoulder and rocking them gently. 

“You either,” Ryan murmured. Shane laughed bitterly. 

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((holy hell that took way too long to write slfjsldkfj))
> 
> the next chapter is just a smutty bonus scene so if ur into that go ahead but otherwise this is the end!!! what a ride tbh i hope u all had as much fun as i did and like,, i love u all tbh thank u to Everyone who left a comment or a kudos(seriously it was the most motivating factor of this whole mess) and !! idk i hope u liked this chapter !! its a wild ride and imma miss this story and my boys but im so glad it happened yk also i rlly hope the ending lives up to all ur hopes and dreams


	4. bonus smut scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is set abt halfway through act 2 and i wrote most of it at like 3am so its not s u p e r realistic but here u go lmao

“Good morning,” Ryan whispered, turning to look up at the sloth-like man holding him. Shane’s eyes were half lidded and he had a crooked half smile as he leaned down to kiss Ryan ever so sweetly. Ryan smiled into the kiss, winding a hand through Shane’s soft hair. He tugged slightly, earning a muffled moan from Shane. Ryan rolled his hips gently, relishing in the moans that were pouring out of Shane’s mouth, and he could feel the taller man’s cock start to harden through his thin boxers. Shane slipped a hand under Ryan’s boxers, eliciting a surprised gasp, and Ryan tugged harder on Shane’s hair. Ryan could feel Shane grin, and he wondered when Shane’s teeth got to be so pointy. Sharp fingertips dug into Ryan’s soft flesh, and Ryan pulled back from the kiss with a heaving chest. Shane whined and tried to follow him, but Ryan laughed and pushed him back down. 

“No, no, lemme just-” Ryan shimmied down to eye level with Shane’s tented boxers, hooking his fingers in the elastic and pulling down slowly. Shane’s dick strained against the silky fabric, and Ryan leaned forward to press close-mouthed kisses to the pale skin. Shane made a strangled noise, and Ryan looked up with a devilish glint in his eye. He pulled the barrier off all the way, mouth watering slightly at the sight in front of him. Shane was a long canvas of nearly flawless light skin and limbs, and Ryan surged up to recaptured Shane’s lips in a searing kiss. Shane ran his hands up Ryan’s back, trying to memorize the feeling of Ryan beneath his fingers. Ryan kissed Shane, hard, before running a hand over Shane’s chest and dropping back down. They were both breathing heavily, arousal tainting the air while Ryan downed as much of Shane in one go as he could. Shane let out a strangled gasp, hand instinctively dropping to clutch at Ryan’s hair while Ryan hummed around Shane’s cock in his mouth. Shane was full on panting at this point, whimpers dropping from his lips as Ryan bobbed up and down on the thick dick and Shane’s hands tightened in Ryan’s hair, pulling him off of Shane’s cock and dragging him up to messily press their lips together. Shane could feel Ryan’s own erection pressing against his leg, and he moved his thigh up just enough to make Ryan moan loudly from the pressure. 

“You feel so good, baby,” Shane murmured against Ryan’s lips, his voice low and scratchy. Ryan whined, almost imperceptibly, his hands scrabbling along Shane’s chest. They were both breathing heavily, pupils blown and it was  _ glorious. _ Shane slid his stupidly large hands through Ryan’s hair, tugging him back down to kiss him thoroughly. Ryan made the most delicious noises, moaning into Shane’s mouth and digging his nails into the taller man’s ribs in an effort to keep from grinding desperately on Shane’s leg. Shane slid his hand down Ryan’s back, easily slipping under the elastic on his underwear. Ryan buried his head into Shane’s neck, helpless noises dripping out of his mouth while Shane dragged his hands along Ryan’s firm flesh. 

“Fuck, hurry up-” Ryan groaned, and Shane chuckled. His voice was low and raspy, and he let go of Ryan’s ass to slide a finger under his chin. 

“God, you’re so pretty,” Shane said quietly, his pupils blown. Ryan huffed, a blush covering his cheeks before he leaned in to press his lips against the taller man’s. Shane smiled slightly, and Ryan gasped loudly and pulled away when Shane wrapped a hand around his cock. Ryan made a muffled noise and buried his head in Shane’s neck when Shane started to stroke, ever so slowly, and tried to restrain himself from biting Shane’s collar bone. 

“Wait! Wait,” Ryan blurted out, panting embarrassingly hard into Shane’s neck. Shane stopped immediately, making a concerned noise in the back of his throat. “I’m, um, I’m close, I wanted to suck you off-” Ryan mumbled, a blush turning his cheeks even darker when Shane let out a surprised chuckle. 

“Thn what are you waiting for, baby?” Shane murmured into Ryan’s hair, give one last stroke to his cock before letting go. Ryan bit his lip to hold back his moan, pulling away from Shane’s chest reluctantly and crawling down. Shane twined his fingers once more in Ryan’s thick hair, moaning softly when Ryan licked a stripe up the underside of his dick. Ryan rumbled low in his chest, enjoying the slide of silky skin over his tongue as he took Shane’s entire length in one go. Shane’s grasp in his hair tightened automatically, tugging harshly. Ryan moaned, the vibrations running up and down like sparks. 

“God- fuck- you’re so good for me, Ryan, I’m so close-” Shane sounded absolutely debauched, voice high and breathy. Ryan smiled, bobbing his head slowly. Shane’s grasp tightened, if it were possible, and he was soon trying to tug the younger man off. Ryan chuckled silently and dropped, burying his nose in the fine curls at the base of Shane’s magnificent cock, revelling in the stream of warmth down the back of his throat and Shane’s absolutely delicious noises as he came undone. He slowly licked his way back up, enjoy the little whimpers from Shane and the heavy drag of his dick. 

His own arousal was becoming insistent, straining against his stomach and leaking precum. Shane beckoned him up with hooded eyes, dragging him down for a kiss before wrapping a hand around Ryan’s cock and pumping quickly. Ryan moaned and arched his back, hips twitching. Shane smiled lazily and leaned up to press his lips against Ryan’s, feeling the smaller man shudder under his grasp and warm streams of cum covering his hand. Ryan slumped into Shane’s embrace, pillowing his head on Shane’s chest and sighing happily. 

“Good morning indeed,” Shane said softly, wiping his hand on the sheets and wrapping his arms around his lover. 


End file.
